


The Dark Side of the Moon

by Sxymami0909, xtremeroswellian



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Banshee Lydia Martin, F/M, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Scott is a Good Friend, Stilinski Family, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:24:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 98,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sxymami0909/pseuds/Sxymami0909, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ritual  is done, but the consequences aren't over. The door inside Stiles' head is still open and they're running out of time to get it closed. Lydia's powers are growing and Derek might hold the key to a link in her past. With Stiles slowly losing his mind and Lydia being the only person who can help him keep it together, the pack is in a race against time to help their friend. Will they be able to close the door in time or will Stiles be lost to them forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

A textbook rested against Lydia’s chest and her brows furrowed deep in her sleep. She shifted against the soft mattress as something inside of her stirred. She was no longer resting peacefully, her hand clenching the sheets at her side as her heartbeat picked up speed. Something flashed behind her eyes, her stomach dropping as anxiety rose in her chest. Images moved frantically behind her eyes and before Lydia knew what was happening her body lurched from the bed throwing the textbook off her chest. It landed with a heavy weight against her legs as her mouth opened wide and a scream tore from her throat.

The sound was shrill, loud, and lasted close to a minute. When it ended her throat closed up and she gasped for breath, her eyes red-rimmed as fear filled her. It had been months since she’d been woken from sleep by a scream. Weeks since the lingering stench of death had invaded her senses. She ran a shaky hand through her hair and swallowed heavily while shoving the textbook from her legs to the bed.

Lydia glanced around the brightly lit room thankful that her Mom was away for the weekend. The last thing she needed was to deal with her questions yet again. There were only so many lies she could tell, despite how good she was getting at them. Lydia dropped her bare legs to the floor, still dressed in her clothes from earlier, and stood up.  
She padded across the floor to her bathroom and reached for the facet. Lydia turned on the water and glanced at her reflection sighing at the image that stared back. She could remember what had made her scream, but the feeling whatever it was left behind didn’t seem to be going anywhere. Something wasn’t right, she could feel it. A storm was coming and Lydia had a feeling it was going to hit closer to home than she would have liked.

Lydia cupped her hands under the water, bent over, and splashed some on her face. She shut the water and patted her face dry with one of the wash cloths. When she was done she turned back around and walked into the bedroom glancing at her bed and wincing at the thought of trying to go back to sleep.

Instead she turned and walked over to her vanity. Sitting down Lydia spotted her cell phone and hesitated before lifting it off the vanity and dialing the number that was becoming all too familiar to her. Lydia lifted the phone to her ear and waited for him to answer wondering if he’d even still be awake.

He wasn’t awake. He’d thought that evening when he’d been able to read the words on his dad’s vehicle Objects in mirror are closer than they appear, that it meant it was over. That Scott’s alpha roaring had somehow fixed whatever was wrong with all three of them. Allison could shoot again with a steady hand, Scott could transform at will, and Stiles could read. But when he’d dropped into sleep that night -- face down on his bed without bothering to get undressed what? He was exhausted, he’d immediately fallen into another deep sleep full of broken and disturbing images.

He dreamt of the Nemeton. Of his blood soaking into it when it grabbed him with its creeping vines, pulling him closer and securing him to the wooden stump. He could feel the prickle of thorns digging into his skin and his breath caught as he gasped in pain. He felt them digging deeper, like they were rooting themselves into his chest, into his skin. Everything hurt and he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t get away.

He sat up in bed, gasping for real and running a shaky hand over his pale face, realizing he was drenched in sweat. At least he hadn’t woke up screaming this time. He couldn’t help but wonder if the Nemeton was just going to haunt them all for the rest of their lives. He wondered if Scott and Allison were dreaming about it, too. Distantly it dawned on him that his cell phone was ringing. He reached out, blinking a few times to try and clear his vision and then pressing the device to his ear.

“Hello?” His voice was full of sleep, and shaky like his hands.

Lydia frowned at the shakiness in Stiles’ voice and she straightened in her seat, the anxiety she’d felt moments before back in full force. “It’s me,” she said softly, “Did I wake you?” she asked though she had a feeling even if she had it wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing.

It only took a moment for her voice to register in his mind and his eyebrows furrowed. Immediately his gaze shot to the clock on his nightstand. It was just after 2 in the morning. Something was wrong. “No. No, it’s okay. What’s going on? You okay?”

Lydia hesitated, that was a loaded question, though she supposed in the grand scheme of things she was doing better than the rest of them. “Sure, as okay as any girl screaming at the tops of her lungs can be.” Lydia rolled her eyes at her words knowing she should probably keep the sarcasm to a minimum. “Sorry, I’m still getting used to this whole wailing woman thing. I don’t like waking up like that” especially when she knew bad things always came along with that scream. Lydia was silent for a moment, “Are you alright?”

Now he was wide awake, already reaching out and flipping on his bedside lamp. He grimaced at the bright light in his eyes for a moment, blocking it out with his hand until they adjusted to the abrupt change in lighting. “You screamed? Like, woke up screaming? Like, dead body out there somewhere and you need me to help you find it?” He reached for his bottle of Adderall, popping the lid off it and dry swallowing one down. He was going to have to be really awake for that, and focused. For the life of him, though, he couldn’t figure out why she was asking him if he was all right, when she was the one who’d woken up with a banshee scream.

She winced, her gaze dropping to her nails on her free hand. She glanced over the polish as she spoke, her voice detached. “Yes Stiles, screaming. But it was different,” she wasn’t quite sure how, but it felt different. Not like it had the other times. Lydia let her hand fall to her lap as she glanced around the empty room almost wishing her parents were home so at least she wasn’t alone, not that she’d ever admit that out loud.

Lydia Martin was not a scared-y cat. “I don’t know if there’s a dead body,” she prayed there wasn’t, “It was a feeling.” Her voice turned serious as she shifted in her chair and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. “A bad feeling. Worse than anything I’ve ever felt.” Lydia admitted grudgingly. She could still feel it. “Maybe I should take a drive, see where I end up.” She suggested finally not sure what else to do, but not really wanting to find yet another dead body, she’d seen enough of those to last a lifetime.

He tried to figure out what she meant by it being different this time, but then she elaborated. His stomach tightened and he climbed out of bed, heading for his closet while he kept the phone pressed to his ear. The worst feeling she’d ever had? Yeah that definitely didn’t sound good. Good times were not ahead for Beacon Hills if the town’s resident psychic-not-psychic-maybe-kind-of-psychic-resident-banshee was having uber bad feelings.

He took a deep, calming breath, stomach twisting more at the idea of her driving out there alone after dark. Sure, she’d done it before, but usually she was in some kind of fugue state and not aware of what she was even doing. This time, she’d reached out, called him, and was talking about going out. He wondered if that meant she was starting to gain some control over her abilities, even if she didn’t realize it. Note to self, he thought. Do more research on banshee super powers.

“Okay, I can be there in like, five minutes. Can you wait that long?” he asked worriedly as he yanked a shirt out of his closet so he could change clothes. “I can go with you.”

His offer didn’t surprise her. Stiles was always there when she needed him. She let out a shaky breath before forcing herself to relax. Get a grip, and pull yourself together, she thought. This wasn’t the time to check out. She needed to be in control of what was happening and the only way to do that was to stay one step ahead of things.

Lydia stood and walked over to her closet grabbing a long sleeve shirt to replace the one she was wearing with her skirt. “I can wait,” she told him while shifting the phone to rest between her ear and shoulder as she unbuttoned her shirt and tossed it aside before tugging the new one on. “Do you think we should call the others?” She asked quietly not sure she wanted to get them involved just yet. Then again if things were going to get violent having Scott or Allison around might be good considering Lydia didn’t plan on dying anytime soon.

Sometimes she wondered how she’d gotten herself involved in all the crazy that Beacon Hills was made up of. But then she remembered she was a mythical harbinger of death and that sort of put things into perspective.

He nodded in relief, though she couldn’t see him, obviously. “Okay, I just gotta change clothes and I’ll head your way.” He paused when she asked about calling the others. “We can if you want to. It’s up to you.” He wasn’t really clear on how her abilities worked, if she sensed that whatever they were going to find was going to involve a lot of danger. So he figured it was best to let her make that call.

Stiles put the speaker phone on for a minute so that he could change shirts and then he picked the phone back up, grabbing his car keys off his dresser and heading out the door of his bedroom, throwing a worried glance toward his dad’s bedroom door. He didn’t want to feel like he was sneaking out anymore, not when his dad knew the truth now, so he’d take a minute and scribble him a note out on the kitchen table so if he woke up, he wouldn’t worry. He knew all of the supernatural stuff was weighing heavily on his dad’s shoulders, thanks in part to Scott’s asshole father trying to get him fired. He didn’t want to add to it.

Lydia grabbed a pair of heels from the closet as she considered Stiles words. She didn’t want to worry the others needlessly and since Stiles was coming to get her she guessed she didn’t really need anyone else. Every other time she’d screamed she always found bodies after the fact. But that was also before she learned what she was.

Lydia slid her feet into her heels, “Let’s leave the others out of it for now. It could be nothing you know,” but even as she said the words she didn’t believe them. Her powers, whatever they were, were changing, growing strong and expanding. Lydia couldn’t explain it and she didn’t understand it and that drove her crazy.

She prided herself on always having the answer to things, that’s who she was, but lately it was getting more difficult to figure out exactly where she stood in the grand scheme of things. “And Stiles, be careful on your way here, please.” Lydia added. It sounded strange, but when she’d woken up once the whole shock screaming again had worn off, Lydia’s first impulse had been to call Stiles.

She wasn’t sure what that meant, but the clenching in her stomach had intensified when she hear his voice even though her body relaxed and that one action alone made her weary.

Stiles finished scratching out the note for his dad and headed out the front door, locking it up behind him. He wondered briefly if maybe he should have grabbed some mountain ash just in case of troublesome werewolves, but mostly he was just concerned with getting to Lydia’s before she took off on her own.

He didn’t really believe that whatever caused her to wake up screaming was nothing, but he didn’t say so. He figured she was probably freaked out enough as it was. No need to make it worse. “Okay, then we wait.” And if and when they found a dead body, he’d call Scott and his dad. He slid into the driver’s seat of the jeep and started the engine, pausing at her next words.

“Yeah, I’ll be careful. Do you want me to stay on the phone while I drive over?” He was half afraid to hang up because what if she did drop into a fugue state and take off before he could get there?

“No,” Lydia said immediately not sure why her reply was so sudden. She licked her lips and swallowed hard the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach growing. “I want you to focus on the road. I’m okay.” Or she would be as soon as the ball of anxiety that was growing inside of her went away.

Lydia was far from stupid and she was starting to think that maybe her scream was warning her of something that was coming instead of something that had already happened and if that was the case, whatever death that was coming could very well be any one of them. Lydia pushed the thought away focused her gaze on her bedroom door and pursed her lips. “I’ll wait for you outside my house. Just...be careful, something is different about this feeling Stiles.” Lydia knew she’d said that already, but she couldn’t help repeating herself.

He hesitated a moment, not really wanting to hang up even though she didn’t want him to drive while he was talking on the phone. It was kind of a nice feeling, to have someone beside Scott or his dad worry about him that way. Strange too, really, “Okay. I’ll be there soon.” Stiles hesitated a second before glancing in his rearview mirror and shifting his jeep into reverse.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said gently. “Just hang in there. I’m on the way.”

Lydia swallowed hard gave a final look in the mirror to check her reflection out of reflex. “I will.” She walked over to the dresser and grabbed her purse, “I’ll see you soon,” she disconnected the call seconds after the words left her mouth. Lydia slid the phone into her purse and stepped out of her room into the hallway.

The sound of her heels echoing in the empty house as she made her way down the steps sent a sudden chill down her spine. Lydia got to the bottom of the steps and turned, glancing over her shoulder and gazing up at the darkened stairwell, the light from her bedroom spilling out into the hallway. She’d forgotten to turn it off, a sigh fell from her lips, “Whatever, it’s just one light,” she mumbled to herself as she walked quickly to the door, catching sight of Prada asleep on the couch and moving as quietly as possible so the dog didn’t wake up and run out as she opened the door.

The air was cool outside as she stepped onto the porch and her brows drew together even as she shut the door behind her and locked it. Maybe she should go back in and get a jacket. Lydia rolled her eyes, jackets didn’t matter. Not right now. She walked down the steps, a slight wind lifting her hair and blowing it around her face. Lydia pushed her hair behind her ear and wrapped her arms around herself, staring into the street waiting for the telltale sign of Jeep lights.

Moments later, Stiles was pulling up in front of her house, relief washing over him when he saw her standing outside at the end of her driveway as she’d promised. Thank god. He really didn’t want to have to try and figure out where she’d gone if she’d wandered off. He shut the engine off and climbed out of the driver’s seat, moving so he was standing in front of her and he reached out to rest his hands on her arms, gazing at her worriedly.

She was a little paler than usual, but given how she’d woken up, he couldn’t really be surprised by that. “Okay, so how do we do this? I drive, you tell me where to go?” They hadn’t gone about it this way before because usually she called him after she wound up wherever it was she was going.

The heat from Stiles hand seeped through her shirt and while at one point she would have found the action offensive, now it reassured her. “I suppose that can work. We’ve never done things this way before,” she acknowledged. “Maybe now that I know what I am,” she paused not sure she liked how that sounded, “The whole screaming my lungs out thing works different.”

Lydia caught Stiles’ gaze. “In Irish mythology banshee’s were known to be attached to certain families and they...they cried out before someone was about to die.” She explained knowing Stiles probably already knew that. He read almost as much as she did. “It doesn’t feel like someone is dead. It feels like,” she stopped talking glancing around them briefly, a shiver sliding down her spine. “Death is coming.” Lydia whispered trying to keep her voice steady not one to show weakness.

Stiles gave her arms a gentle, reassuring squeeze as he listened to her, heard the fear in her voice. He’d heard fear in her voice before, and he hated it. He never liked seeing her afraid, and it felt like he’d seen her afraid a lot in the past few weeks and months. He drew in a breath, nodding as told him about banshees. She was right, he did already know that. He hadn’t spent as much time researching the mythology on banshees as he wanted to, but there had been so much insanity happening that there just hadn’t been enough time. Plus there had been awhile there where he literally couldn’t read at all, so even if he’d had the time, he wouldn’t have gotten very far.

When she shivered, he stepped closer to her, as if he could actually use his body as some kind of physical barrier between her and whatever it was that she sensed was about to happen. He couldn’t, of course, but it wasn’t going to stop him from trying. “Okay. So something is coming. Death is coming,” Again, great. He wondered who it would be this time, and so many terrible possibilities flashed through his mind. Scott, Allison, his dad, Scott’s mom, Isaac, Derek, Cora. It could literally be any of them, or someone else altogether.

“So what do you want to do, Lydia? I can drive us around and stop if you feel a tug or something toward someone’s house.” Stiles’ eyes were full of uncertainty.

Lydia could see the uncertainty on Stiles’ face, she knew he wasn’t sure how to deal with this whole Banshee thing, neither did she, but that never stopped him from trying. She reached out letting her fingers graze his arm and the second it did something feral and dark tore through her. A gasp fell from her mouth as the anxiety from earlier swirled inside her stomach making it drop.

Lydia let her fingers fall from his skin and immediately the darkness that had been surrounding her, suffocating her, faded. Her mind worked quickly as the dread lingering inside of her faded. She met his gaze and pursed her lips, “I’m fine,” she said before he could even ask. Lydia took a minute to look at Stiles, really look at him and she could see the bags under his eyes and the tired look on his face.

“Stiles, are you okay?” She asked repeating her earlier question. Something told her he wasn’t and the distance voice in the back of her head was telling her that the feeling she was getting might be closer to home than normal, but she pushed it aside not wanting to accept what that might mean.

Something was wrong. She touched his arm before gasping and pulling away from him and then she was assuring him she was fine, but he didn’t buy it for a second. If she was fine, why was she gasping and looking like some kind of realization had just hit her?

Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed when she asked him if he was okay, because he wasn’t the one who’d woken up from a dream screaming, even if he’d been close to it when he’d woken up to her calling him. It took his mind a moment to begin putting the pieces together before it dawned on him.

The feeling she had was about him. He sucked in a breath, letting his hands fall away from her arms. He was going to die. It really shouldn’t have surprised him, considering how terrible their lives all were, how much danger that constantly surrounded all of them. But it did surprise him. He was going to die and Lydia felt it. He swallowed hard, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again and then looking away. Well, that sucked. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I’m all right.” He didn’t know what else to say, really. What could he say? “Hey, Lydia, sorry you’re going to find my dead body soon” ? That just seemed incredibly insensitive and sucky. So he stuck with telling her he was all right.

Lydia could see the second his mind grabbed onto the same conclusion as hers. “Take a deep breath.” She said automatically getting herself under control so she could focus on helping Stiles calm down. She took a step towards him, hesitating before reaching out and resting her hands on his shoulders bracing for an onslaught of darkness, but nothing came and relief washed over her. Thank god, she thought. “This might not mean anything. I don’t know how this works Stiles,” though she knew a couple of werewolves who might, not that that helped any since Peter and Derek were currently AWOL.

“It could be nothing,” she said her voice coming out stronger than it felt, the thought of Losing Stiles stirred something deeper inside of her, something that Lydia wasn’t sure she could deal with at the moment. “Talk to me, are you still having nightmares?” She asked a frown pulling at her lips.

He did as she said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Despite the fact the realization probably should have triggered some sort of panic, right then he just felt numb. She said it might not mean anything, but every time she’d had one of her feelings, someone had ended up dead. Every single time. Why would this turn out any different, just because it was him, and he was somehow more inherently connected to all of the supernatural that happened in Beacon Hills than most? It wasn’t like it gave him some sort of immunity to death. He was still just as human, just as mortal and vulnerable as most. Maybe more so.

He blinked a couple of times, forcing himself to focus on her face, on her question. Was he still having nightmares? He could barely remember a time when he hadn’t been having nightmares. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly, feeling eerily still about his own impending death. Maybe when the shock wore off, it would hit him later. “I was having one when you called, actually.”

Lydia glanced over her shoulder at her house and then back at Stiles. “Why don’t you come inside. I don’t think a drive tonight is going to be helpful.” They needed to figure out what was going on with him and why he was still having nightmares. Lydia wondered if he was still seeing things too.

She thought everything had gone back to normal earlier with Allison being able to shoot, Scott finally changing on his own, and Stiles being able to snap himself out of things to save her foot. God knows her shoes wouldn’t look good with just one. But Lydia was starting to think that wasn’t the case at all.

She took a step back from Stiles and dug into her purse for her keys. “I can heat up some tea,” she suggested when she didn’t see him move right away.

“Yeah, tea would be good,” he echoed, voice sounding hollow even to his own ears. He reluctantly followed her toward her front door, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets as he tried to process everything that was happening. It was disappointing, really. He’d had a lot of things he’d wanted to do. Like graduate high school. Go to college. Maybe actually have some kind of future, even if he’d been doubting the latter for a while now when he was honest with himself.

He chewed his lower lip as he waited for her to unlock the door, reaching down instinctively and catching Prada as he barreled outside. The dog yipped at him, but calmed down quickly as he stepped inside the Martin’s house and then set the pup on the sofa, watching Lydia close and lock the door behind them. “No mom?” he asked, already suspecting the answer. Neither of Lydia’s parents were exactly known for their parenting skills and attention, even though she lived with her mom. It made him even more grateful for his dad.

“She’s away for the weekend, some kind of work convention,” she said with a wave of her hand as she dropped her keys back into her purse and laid it down on the table near the front door. Lydia walked over to where Stiles had placed Prada and smiled as she ran a hand over her baby’s fur. “Be a good girl Prada,” she punctuated the statement with an affectionate tap before motioning for Stiles to follow her into the kitchen.

Lydia reached for the cabinet and grabbed two mugs once they were in the kitchen, setting them down on the counter and then walking over to the stove. She moved in silence filling up the tea kettle and putting it on the stove. Once the flame was lit she turned, leaning against the counter as her eyes followed Stiles’ movements.

“Does your Dad know you left?” She asked not wanting to get him in trouble with the sheriff.

He leaned back against the kitchen sink, staring at the tea kettle even as she spoke. He looked up at her. “I didn’t wake him up, but I left him a note in case he woke up.” He paused. “Trying to do the whole not keeping secrets from him thing. It’s weird.” Weird, but nice. But this new development was probably going to be a secret, because he just didn’t see the point of freaking his dad out over it. And his dad would most definitely freak out.

“Stiles,” Lydia called his name trying to draw his attention to her. She could already see him shutting down and she knew that wasn’t good. “We’re going to fix whatever this is.” She took a step forward and then two more until she was right in front of him. “All those other times were different. I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t help because it was after the fact and I didn’t know what it all meant.” Not until Jennifer Blake had explained it to her, crazy ass wannabe English teacher.

“Scott won’t let anything happen to you,” she said finally acknowledging her feeling. “Neither will anyone else...neither will I.” Lydia rested her hand on his arm now that she was sure the feeling wasn’t coming back tonight. “In order for me to help, you have to let me in.” She glanced down briefly, “There’s a reason that I was chosen to be your anchor Stiles, we can help each other.” They needed each other, Lydia could feel it, she just wasn’t sure where everything fit yet.

He shifted his gaze to meet her green eyes. They were the eyes that he’d found himself staring into for most of his life, the ones he thought about before he fell asleep nearly every night. He drew in a breath, nodding slightly in acknowledgment of her words. The determination in her voice was as obvious to him as his own sense of resignation. He looked down at her hand on his arm and managed a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes when he spoke again. “I know,” he said quietly. “I mean that’s what we do, right? All of us? Save each other’s lives and pull each other away from trouble.” Except for the times that they didn’t quite get there in time, or didn’t quite manage to get the job done.

Images of Erica and Boyd flickered through his mind, followed by the ever-haunting image of Heather’s lifeless body in the hospital morgue. Hell, even Lydia, after Peter attacked her on the lacrosse field over a year ago. He hadn’t gotten there in time then either. His chest was painfully tight, but he reached down and covered her hand with his own. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Of course we will,” she said as if it wasn’t even a question. The sharp whistle of the tea kettle broke through the silence and she pointed to one of the chairs. “Sit, relax and please stop looking like I just kicked your nonexistent puppy.” Lydia needed Stiles to be his normal, crazy self so he could help her figure out what was happening.

She slid her hand slowly out from beneath his and turned toward the stove to pour the tea. They were going to have to call Scott and Allison and see if things were still bad for them too, but that could wait until morning. Well, later in the morning.

He flinched involuntarily at the sound of the tea kettle whistling as a single thought came to him unbidden even as he moved to sit as she’d instructed. For whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Allison showed up at Lydia’s house bright and early the next morning, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time. She had two cups of coffee in her hands as she let herself in with the Martin’s spare, hidden key and made her way through the familiar house. She knew Lydia’s mom was out of town, some kind of work convention. It seemed like her mom spent more time away than she did at home, which probably went a long way toward explaining Lydia’s cool facade that she put on for anyone who didn’t really know her.

With a pang she thought of her own mother, not that she’d been an upstanding example of parenting, but she was still her mom. “Lydia, I brought coffee,” she called, nudging the door to Lydia’s bedroom open with her foot and freezing in her tracks at the sight in front of her. Lydia was curled up asleep in bed and...Stiles Stilinski was sprawled on the floor beside said bed, face down in a pillow with a blanket strewn haphazardly over him.  
Okay. That was an interesting twist. She arched an eyebrow, wondering what was going on. Maybe the two had fallen asleep studying or something the previous night, but Allison didn’t see any textbooks laying around anywhere. Either they were the neatest study-buddies in the world or something else was going on.

Lydia groaned and shifted beneath the covers, her leg sliding out and into the cool air swirling around the bedroom. Her brows drew together and her nose scrunched up at the familiar sound of Allison's voice. She was exhausted, but she forced herself to open her eyes letting them flutter until her pillow came into focus.

Lydia tilted his head and glanced at the clock the red numbers blaring at her burning eyes. God, it was too early to be awake and yet Lydia knew it was Monday morning and they had to get ready for school. Some days she seriously wished high school was done and she was on a college schedule, one she made herself.

She turned over on her back and then sat up slowly covering a yawn as she spotted Allison. Lydia arched a perfectly sculpted brow, “You’re looking chipper this morning.” She commented her voice raspy with sleep.

“Sleeping without dreaming about one’s dead aunt will do that,” Allison returned, moving carefully around Stiles’ form which hadn’t budged and sitting on the edge of her best friend’s bed. She handed her one of the coffees and took a sip of her own. “Do I dare ask about this?” she asked, her voice teasing as she motioned to Stiles.

Lydia took the coffee gratefully and brought the steaming disposable cup to her lips taking a long sip as her gaze drifted to Stiles. They hadn’t fallen asleep until close to four in the morning and two and a half hours wasn’t nearly enough sleep. Lydia was going to have to go heavy on the makeup today, luckily it was something she was used to.

She glanced at Allison, the worry from last night back on her face when Allison’s words registered. “You didn’t have any dreams last night? Nothing? No almost shooting people either?” She asked while leaning forward making the blanket fall to her waist and exposing her light blue nightgown.

Allison cocked her head to the side, frowning a little at the questions. “No. I slept fine for the first time in weeks. No nightmares.” She held her hand up, holding it flat so she could show Lydia that her hands weren’t shaking like they had been for so long. They were steady as could be.

“And no almost shooting anyone, thankfully.” Even now, though, the thought that she’d almost killed Lydia with one of her arrows, and then almost shot Isaac made her shudder involuntarily. “Why? Did you have nightmares? Is that why Stiles is here?”

Lydia hesitated her eyes darting to Stiles prone form. She could hear a light snore coming from him and her lip twitched at the corner. But the smile was short lived. Her grip tightened around the coffee and she caught Allison’s gaze. “Not me,” she nodded at Stiles, “Him. But that isn’t why he’s here. Something happened last night.”

Lydia hated being the bearer of bad news, but she supposed ripping the bandaid off was better than dragging things along. “I woke up screaming last night...the scream. You know, Banshee, death omen, and all of that.” She said while reaching out and resting the coffee on her bedside table.

Allison’s eyes widened a little and she her coffee down, too, reaching out and resting a hand on Lydia’s arm. “Did you guys find something?” More specifically, had they gone out and found a body? She wondered why no one had called her, because she was usually on the call list when it came to her friends finding dead bodies. “Lydia, are you okay?” There was worry in her voice.

Lydia’s eyes went to Stiles again before she motioned toward the bathroom. She threw the covers off of her and dropped her legs to the floor before standing. She rummaged around in her closet before pulling down a deep wine colored dress and waving Allison over as she walked quietly into the bathroom. She waited for Allison to make her way inside as she started washing her face and brushing her teeth.

So that would be a no. Immediately Allison was worried as she followed Lydia into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her quietly and leaning sideways against the sink, watching her friend intently. “Okay, what is it?” She kept her voice quiet still, because it felt like they needed to be quiet.

Lydia shut the water off and wiped her face. She turned to face Allison and this time the fear she’d been doing her best to hide from Stiles last night showed. “It’s Stiles. I think…” she swallowed heavily. Her throat felt dry despite the fact that she’d just had a mouthful of water.

“I think my scream was for him,” her words were quiet and the knot in her stomach was growing by the second. “The feeling I got was different, like a warning. I was conscious of it this time I think and then when I touched Stiles.” Lydia’s voice cut off. What she felt from Stiles last night had scared her to the core, a fact she hadn’t shared with him. But she knew she had to share it with someone and Allison was her best friend.

Allison’s heart sank at her friend’s words. Lydia thought Stiles was in trouble. That he was going to die. That was definitely not good. “Okay.” So this was different, but workable, she thought. It also meant that Lydia’s powers were doing something different, but she didn’t figure now was the best time to mention that. Not when she was clearly worried about the boy in her bedroom.

“I’ll call Scott and Isaac, and we can start brainstorming. If something or someone is after Stiles, we won’t let it or them have him.” It was as simple as that. She trusted Lydia’s instincts.

Lydia sent Allison a grateful look before running a hand through her hair. She was glad she didn’t need to convince Allison. Her friend trusted her instincts and Lydia was glad. “Okay, also,” she paused hating what her next words were going to be, “Has Scott heard from Derek or Peter?” She made a face at his name.

Lydia didn’t like Peter, but who could blame her. He did maul her on a football field. But he also seemed to know a bit about the whole Banshee thing and she was pretty sure Derek did too. She’d rather talk to him than Peter, but Peter was the one who asked her about her feelings and showed her how to focus so she could understand what they meant.

Allison studied Lydia for a moment, then shook her head. “Not that I know of. I know he was trying to contact Derek when we were looking for Malia, hoping Derek could guide him a little through the alpha transformation, but…” She sighed. “Derek never returned his call.” Which didn’t really surprise her that much. It wasn’t like Derek and Scott were close friends. They worked together when they had to, and that was about it. As far as she knew, Derek and his sister were far away and never coming back. As for Peter, she had no idea what the creepy werewolf was doing. She didn’t have a lot of warm and fuzzy feelings for either of the Hales, but if this was Stiles’ life on the line, she’d set aside her personal feelings about them and do whatever they needed to in order to save him.

“Maybe someone else could try though,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe if Isaac called him, he’d be more apt to answer.”

Lydia nodded, “Maybe.” She shook her head and tried to be a little more upbeat. “I’m going to get dressed and try to make it look like I got more than two hours of sleep. I’ll wake Stiles up after that. Do you want to call Scott while you’re waiting, that way they know to meet up with us during free period?” She asked as she turned back to the sink and placed her dress down on the counter before pulling out her make-up box.

“Yeah, I’ll go do that,” she told the redhead, pushing herself away from the sink. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and reached for the door handle, pausing and then looking back at her friend once more. “We’re not going to let anything happen to Stiles, Lydia.” Her voice was quiet, confident.

Lydia caught Allison’s gaze through the mirror, “No, we’re not.” She told her friend matter-of-factly. She would protect Stiles if it was the last thing she did. Nobody messed with the people Lydia Martin cared about and got away with it.

______

 

There was some kind of irony in the fact that the morning after he found out his death was looming on the horizon, he still had to drag himself to school and go to class. He was the first one in the classroom and he was unable to stifle a yawn as he made his way to his seat and slumped down in the chair, shutting his eyes. He’d spoken with his dad briefly that morning after Lydia had woken him, just to assure his dad that for now, at least, he was okay and still alive. How much longer that would last was anyone’s guess.

He wasn’t sure if he was glad that Lydia had some kind of warning this time or not. Was it better to know about what was coming even if you couldn’t do anything about it? He knew she believed they could stop it, and he wanted to believe that, but after everything, he just didn’t have it in him anymore. He was tired.

He heard footsteps approaching and he pried one eye open to look over at the doorway, not surprised to see Scott approaching and dropping into the chair beside him. He nodded at him, yawning again. “Hey.”

Scott gave Stiles a once over and cocked his head to the side. “Dude, you look like you didn’t sleep at all last night,” he said as he pushed his books to the corner of his desk and turned his body so his feet were in the aisle. For the first time in a long time Scott had not only gotten a good night’s rest, but he hadn’t seen his shadow growing wolf parts in the middle of crowded areas. And when his Dad had stopped by that morning before school he was even able to control the urge to cut his throat open, and without changing. His Mom and been proud. He felt better, finally.

But Allison’s text had worried him. “What’s going on?” He asked his gaze darting to the front of the classroom to make sure the teacher wasn’t there yet.

Stiles shifted in his seat and drew in a breath, opening his eyes to look at his best friend. How exactly did one break the news of their impending death to the guy he’d looked at as a brother for the majority of his life? He tried to smile but it came out more of a grimace than anything. He knew that Allison was going to text or call Scott that morning, but he wasn’t really sure how much she’d clued Scott in on already.

“You didn’t hear Lydia last night?” He kept his voice low just in case anyone else happened to walk in early. Like for instance, Finnstock.

Scott blinked as realization dawned on him. He leaned forward, “That was Lydia?” He should have realized it, but the scream had barely woken him up from the dead sleep he was in and Scott was pretty sure he hadn’t processed what it really was at the time. It had been a long day and finally feeling normal had caught up with him and he’d passed out, sleeping heavier than he had since nearly dying to help their parents.

“Did you guys find a body?” He asked quietly, “Why didn’t you call?” He asked. He could have helped, or more actually found the scent of blood. He couldn’t imagine how Lydia was feeling if she found another body. It had been hard for her last time and it had been hard for his best friend to see Lydia hurting.

“We didn’t find a body,” he assured Scott. “We would’ve called if we had.” He paused. “She said it was different this time. That it felt different. She doesn’t think anyone’s dead yet.” Yet being the key word. He sighed a little and resisted the urge to lay his head down on the desk and shut his eyes. When he’d passed out at Lydia’s early that morning, he hadn’t dreamed at all, thankfully.

“She said it felt like something was coming.” For him, specifically, but he didn’t say that. No reason to freak Scott out first thing in the morning. Their free period was in a couple hours and this was the first time he’d seen his best friend relaxed in awhile now. He deserved that. He was always running around trying to save and protect everyone and stop evil alpha werewolves and darach’s and whatever else came their general direction. A couple hours wasn’t going to make any difference anyway.

Scott frowned. That was new. Lydia’s powers must be growing, something else they were going to have to deal with. But something seemed off with Stiles other than the fact that he looked like he was going to fall over any minute. Scott had known him for a long time and something wasn’t right. “Are you okay?” He asked as the teacher walked into the classroom, the sound of his shoes hitting the ground drawing Scott’s attention to the front of the room briefly before he glanced back at Stiles and slid his legs beneath his desk.

Stiles was a world of not okay, but there wasn’t time to talk about it right then. He just nodded instead, rubbing a hand over his face. “Tired. Long night,” he admitted, figuring Scott would just assume that was because Lydia had called him. That had factored in, of course, but it was far from the whole problem at hand. He glanced up at Finnstock and tried to sit up a little straighter in his chair, opening his notebook and staring at it for a moment as he spotted the page where he’d written wake up over and over again all over, crowding out all the white space on the page. He flipped to the first new blank page and uncapped his pen, chewing on it.

Scott watched Stiles for a minute, his brows drawn together, but his friend stayed focused on the front of the classroom and he let out a small sigh as he grabbed his notebook and opened to a clean page. He could see something was wrong, but Stiles obviously didn’t want to talk about it. He’d wait until their free period, but once they were all together he’d get answers and make sure his friend was okay.

______

 

Derek gripped the sliding door to the loft, his bag thrown over his shoulder and tugged it aside until the metal door stood open. He stepped forward standing in the doorway a frown on his face. He’d only been gone a few weeks and yet after the last few days he spent getting fried with high voltages because of his idiotic Uncle, Derek was glad to be home. With Cora gone needing her space after losing Boyd and dealing with everything that had happened in the last few months, Derek was once again alone. Well, aside from Peter.

Speaking of his Uncle, Derek could hear him shuffling behind him in the hallway and he rolled his eyes and stepped further into the apartment taking in the desolate room. He swallowed hard doing his best not to think of the memories that were trapped within these walls. He stepped further into the room and dropped his bag to the ground. “I really need to do something with this place,” he commented his tone bored as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone.

After being freed from their electricity happy captives Derek had seen close to ten missed calls from Scott and knowing he wouldn’t have called unless something was wrong, Derek made his way back to Beacon Hills. He turned when he heard footsteps enter his apartment and arched an eyebrow. “You’re still here?” He asked as he scratched the back of his head.

“Apparently,” Peter said drily, moving to drop down onto the sofa in the back of the room. He poked at the cushions. “And yes, your interior decorating skills could use some finesse.” He watched Derek study his phone. “Apparently someone’s also been missed.” There was no mistaking the smirk in his voice. He pulled his own phone out and saw that he had no missed messages, on the other hand. Oh well. There wasn’t anyone he really missed here anyway. He set the phone down beside him on the cushion.

“Let me guess. It’s one of the many teenagers you’ve befriended, begging you to come back to Beacon Hills.”

Derek sent a glare in Peter’s direction. Every time he tried to make some kind of connection with people, friendship, romance, Peter always tried to belittle that connection and make him push it away. But Derek was done with that. After everything that happened with Jennifer and Deucalion he respected Scott. He’d come a long way in the three years Derek had known him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but something is wrong. Scott wouldn’t have tried to get in touch with me otherwise.” Derek admitted.

That fact shouldn’t make his chest tighten the way it did. He kept himself apart from the rest of group because he wasn’t good at getting close to people. All it did was make him vulnerable. Then again, that wasn’t always a bad thing. Derek shook himself out of his thoughts and sent Scott a text message letting him know he was back in town and apologizing for missing his texts. He would explain in person.

Derek slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned to face Peter crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t think you’re staying here, do you?” He asked while lifting his bag off the floor and heading for his bed.

"Of course something is wrong." There was still a smirk on his face as he leaned back on the sofa farther, looking up at the ceiling. "It's Beacon Hills, Derek. What did you expect? There's always going to be something wrong." He was truly surprised his nephew hadn't learned that yet. History always repeated itself, and it would continue to do so until the end of time. It was the way of the world.

"Of course not. I do have my own apartment." He was almost offended by the insinuation. "I'm simply catching my breath after finally getting back to our home town."

Derek nodded to the door. “Well now that you’ve caught your breath you can go. I’ve got to get unpacked and clean up.” Not that there was much to unpack, though he did need to unload the container he’d retrieved and put it somewhere safe. And a shower probably wouldn’t hurt. Derek rubbed the back of his neck as his gaze traveled to his Uncle still resting comfortably on his couch. “What?”

"So rude," Peter commented, not really bothered by it. "We're family. We should really consider sticking together, Derek." Nevertheless, he pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his phone once more and heading for the front door. "You just enjoy that solitude and your...teenagers." He smirked.

Derek turned away from Peter and winced. He didn’t need a reminder that he’d cut himself from pretty much everyone. At least this time he’d left on good terms. “And you have fun enjoying the sound of your own voice.” He said drily. “I’ll call you if I need you.” Derek said as he unzipped his bag and started tossing clothes out of it.

_____

 

Stiles really didn’t want to be having this meeting at all. He didn’t want to see the look on Scott’s face when his best friend learned that Stiles was going to be dying soon. He knew that his friends would do whatever they could to save him, to keep it from happening, and while he appreciated that, he was terrified that whatever was after him would wind up getting one of them instead. And that would be so much worse than his own death.

He’d been to so many funerals since he was eight years old, starting with his mom’s. His mom, his aunt Sarah, his grandpa. Various officers that his dad worked with. Erica. Heather. Boyd. That horrible night that Scott had drenched himself in gasoline and held a flare in his hand. It had been one of the most terrifying moments of his life. Then Jennifer Blake kidnapping his dad.

He’d come so close to losing the three most important people in his life in a matter of days: Scott, Lydia, his dad. The idea that one of them would put themselves into unnecessary danger for him didn’t sit well with him. It made him feel nauseous. He paced back and forth in the empty classroom, trying to figure out how he could stop any of them from doing something stupid.

Lydia made her way down the hallway, books in hand. She could hear other students around her walking by, talking, laughing, but it sounded far away. She couldn’t seem to focus her mind on anything but Stiles. All day she’d been going through the motions, answering questions, doing equations, snarking at people who pissed her off, but it was all for show.

Inside her heartbeat was irregularly fast and her thoughts were a mass of dark images and feelings of unease. Lydia hated not understanding her gift, not understanding what the feelings meant or what exactly they were warning her about. Stiles was in danger, but from what? From who? Lydia sighed as she spotted the classroom they were meeting in the door slightly ajar.

She pulled it open a little more and stepped inside pausing when she spotted Stiles pacing back and forth. “Hey,” Lydia put her books down on one of the desks and closed the distance between her and stiles. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.” She commented with half a smile, trying to ease the tension out of him, it was the least she could do, after all his mood was her fault.

At the sound of her footsteps, he turned to look at her, noticing that for as beautiful as she looked, she also looked tired. His own tiredness was now null and void because he’d taken an extra Adderall that morning after his first class when he’d almost fallen asleep. Now he was just on edge. It was a vicious cycle of side effects, really.

“Probably. But look at the floor. It’s crappy. If I wear a hole in it, it’d be an actual improvement and they could lay a new one down instead. I’m literally saving the school.” He smirked faintly and rather than resuming the pacing, he moved over and sat down on the heat vent. The urge to pace was still present, but he didn’t want to worry her anymore than she already was.

Stiles leaned back against the window. “Thanks for letting me crash last night, by the way. Or...this morning, actually.”

“Any time.” Lydia said and meant it. If she was being honest, she was glad he’d stayed. This feeling that seemed to be sticking around, the underlining one that let her know something wasn’t quite right worried her and having Stiles around, knowing he was okay actually made her feel better.

She sat on one of the desks across from him and tapped her nails against it. “This meeting is pointless. Scott and Isaac are going to ask a ton of questions and I don’t have any of the answers.” She wished she did, but Lydia knew it wasn’t that simple. “Not pointless,” she corrected realizing that was harsh, “Just frustrating. I wish I could help more.”

His chest tightened at her words, not surprised they were thinking along the same lines, even if she’d changed her wording to make it all sound less futile. He was silent for a moment, watching her tap her nails on the desk. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said quietly. “Okay? It isn’t your fault.” That much he knew was true.

Stiles chewed his thumbnail, one foot bouncing on the floor. “You’re right, though, they’re going to have a lot of questions.” Questions that no one was going to have answers to. That was frustrating, and it very much felt like it was all an effort in futility. Like they were just fighting battle after battle with no end in sight overall.

Lydia studied Stiles for a minute taking in the worry on his face and tension in his body before huffing. She didn’t need to be in his head to know what he was thinking. “I need something from you.” She said quietly as she crossed her ankles and studied the boots on her feet.

His eyebrows raised at that. “Uh. Like, what? A blood sample? Because I don’t do needles, Lydia.” At least his sense of humor was still somewhat in tact.

Lydia glanced up and sent him a look, “No, smartass you can keep your bodily fluids for the moment,” she said as she met his gaze and pressed her lips together momentarily. “I need you to be honest with me and I need you not to give up.” Lydia used her hands to push herself up of the desk and she walked back and forth in front of Stiles.

“Protecting you, helping you, none of it is going to work if you push us away and I will tell you this Stiles Stilinski if you so much as push me away,” she paused in front of him and pointed a finger in his face, “I will kill you myself. Got it?” She said sternly.

He had the decency to look properly chided and he looked down as she got to her feet and moved to stand in front of him. He exhaled, glancing back up to meet her eyes. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest at her words, and he wondered when the hell he’d become important enough for her to care that much. He didn’t ask. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said solemnly. Also she was damn scary when she was being fierce. He loved her for it.

Lydia smiled, she opened her mouth to commend him for listening to her when there was a loud noise outside the door. She turned in time to see Scott stumble into the room, his backpack strewn on the floor behind him.

Scott shook his head, how he managed to trip on his backpack he’ll never know. He glanced up and spotted Lydia and Stiles. Scott grinned, “Hey guys, sorry it took so long I had to stop off uh out there.” He pointed to the hallway. The truth was he’d stopped to talk to Kira not able to ignore the way she’d been looking at him. She was nice and new to the school. Plus, she was gorgeous.

Scott dropped his bag on the floor and hopped over one of the desks until he was standing near Stiles and Lydia. “No one else here yet?” He asked with a frown figuring Allison would have beat him there since her class was closer.

“Just the three of us, Dude,” Stiles greeted, offering him a small smile. “At least so far.” He figured Allison had probably already pulled Isaac aside somewhere and either filled him in or the two were making out in the janitor’s closet or something. It wouldn’t really surprise him. They’d been getting closer lately, and even though it annoyed Stiles because Isaac had completely broken bro-code, he knew that feelings changed all the time. Just look at Scott. He was pretty sure that his best friend’s interest no longer lie in Allison Argent, but in the new girl, Kira. She seemed nice, and sweet, and smart. Kind of socially awkward, but hell. Stiles could relate to that.

He’d had one friend most of his life and that was it. Stiles knew all about social awkwardness. He also kind of sensed that Allison and Lydia neither one liked Kira that much, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was some kind of girl-code. Like, you can’t possibly be friends with your best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend, and honestly he didn’t even know why he was thinking about any of this when he was actually on death’s doorstep. His brain, man.

Scott glanced between Lydia and Stiles and scratched the back of his head. “So what’s going on guys? Why the urgent meeting?” Scott glanced at Lydia, “Stiles said you screamed last night, but there wasn’t a dead body.” His lip quirked, “That’s a good thing right?” He asked.

Lydia bit her bottom lip and glanced at Stiles not sure if he wanted her to start explaining before the others got there.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, glancing back at her for a moment, then shifting his gaze to Scott. “Lydia thinks the feeling she got is...about me,” he admitted, not wanting to make the guy wait any longer than he had to. He raised his eyebrows. “So the meeting is basically trying to figure out what that is and how to stop it.”

Scott frowned, “About you,” he said slowly before his gaze travelled to Lydia. “You think,” he paused, “You think Stiles is going to die?” He asked barely able to get the words out of his mouth. That couldn’t be right. Lydia had to be wrong. Why would anyone want Stiles dead, if it was even a person. “Maybe you’re wrong. You’ve got to be wrong.”

Lydia’s chest tightened at Scott’s words. She’d told herself the same thing several times that day, but she knew what she felt and she it got louder when she was around Stiles. Her stomach knotted and anxiety welled inside of her. “I know what I felt,” she said keeping her voice calm. “We need to think about this rationally. Wouldn’t it be better to be safe than sorry?”

Scott crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back and sat on one of the desks in front of them. “I guess so,” he paused, “What do you think man?” He asked glancing at Stiles, though he knew what his friend was probably going to say.

Stiles pursed his lips, leaning back against the window and folding his arms across his chest, as well. “I think Lydia’s feelings have always been pretty spot on and I believe her,” he admitted quietly. And he did. It was why he kept alternating between terror and numb acceptance of whatever was coming. He was certain she was right.

“You and Allison both slept okay last night, right? No nightmares?” His voice grew even more quiet now, and he looked down at the floor. “Because I didn’t. Sleep okay. I’m still having them. They’re as bad as they’ve ever been. So whatever…” He motioned vaguely with one hand. “Maybe you guys shut the doors in your mind but the one in mine...I don’t think it’s closed.”

Scott’s eyes widened. “You didn’t close the door?” Fear suddenly slammed into him. He remembered what Deaton said about how dangerous it was to leave their minds open. “How is that possible I thought we fixed it the other night, you said you could read again and that you were feeling better.” Did Stiles lie? No, Scott shoved the thought aside immediately. If he had known something was wrong he would have told him. “If that’s what it is, we can fix it. Allison and I did, you can too.” He said earnestly.

Except he didn’t know how. But how was he supposed to tell Scott that? Why hadn’t he been able to close the door when both he and Allison had? He raked his fingers through his hair, exhaling slowly and looking back down at the floor as he heard Isaac and Allison approaching, making him fall silent once more. He snuck a glance at Lydia.

“Hey guys. Sorry we were late. We ran into…” Allison hesitated, glancing at Scott and then Lydia. “The twins. They’re outside the school.”

Stiles grimaced. “Probably waiting to punch Scott’s face in again,” he said bitterly.

Scott’s brows drew together, “They were trying to help,” he said diplomatically not giving Stiles or Isaac a chance to speak when he saw both of their mouths open. “That doesn’t mean I trust them, but it helped in the end right?” He asked before shifting his gaze to Allison and bringing the conversation back to the point of their meeting. “Did you fill Isaac in on what’s going on?” Scott knew she’d been spending a lot more time with him lately and figured she probably did.

Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott’s statement, folding his arms across his chest, body tenser now than before. Of course TweedleDee and TweedleDumb were still lurking around. They needed an alpha and Scott was the only one in town. Douchebags, he thought bitterly before chewing on his thumbnail once more.

“Yeah, I filled him in,” Allison admitted. “So what do we do? What’s our first step?”

Scott straightened up. “We need to figure out how we closed the door in our heads.” He said simply even though he knew it wasn’t that simple. Nothing ever was, he thought. “Something must have happened yesterday without us even realizing it that helped us close the door,” he explained as he darted his gaze around the room.

“If we figure it out we can help Stiles close the door in his head.” It sounded like the best plan they had even though Scott wasn’t sure how they were going to go about it.

Lydia was listening to Scott as she leaned against the window beside Stiles, “What do we do until then?” She asked knowing that if it was the door in Stiles head that was doing this it was going to be dangerous for Stiles until it was closed.

Allison glanced at Isaac. “He shouldn’t be alone,” she said, turning her attention to her best friend. “Someone needs to stay with him, probably around the clock, just in case.” She looked at Lydia.

Stiles frowned, not particularly pleased with that suggestion. “Round the clock babysitters. Awesome,” he grumbled.

Lydia reached out and rested a hand on Stiles arm. “No one thinks of it that way,” she said softly. “You are our friend,” she told him trying to fight back the urge to hug him to give him some comfort. “We don’t mind standing by you,” Lydia glanced out at their friends. “Do we,” she said pointedly the look on her face saying if anyone contradicted her they’d be in trouble. Not that they would, everyone loved Stiles.

Allison cut a glance at Isaac, who looked like he wanted to protest and she gave him a look. “No, of course not. It isn’t like you haven’t saved all of our lives, Stiles. We’re not going to let anything happen to you. Right, Scott?”

Stiles shifted slightly, closer to Lydia without really thinking about it, and looking down at her hand on his arm, turning his hand slightly and covering hers with his own for a moment before letting go, falling silent.

Scott reached out clasping his hand over Stiles shoulder. “Right. You’re a member of this pack,” he said resolutely as he squeezed his friends shoulder. “And we protect each other.” Stiles had saved the day on more than one occasion, but more than that, Stiles was his brother, blood or not.

Stiles looked at Scott silently for a moment, nodding even as his chest tightened. “Yeah.” He drew in a breath, looking at Allison and then Isaac, uncertain. “Okay so then we need a plan.” He was usually the plan guy, so asking everyone else what the plan was? Was kind of a strange feeling.

Lydia nodded. “Scott can talk to Deaton, see if he knows anything that might help us.” Her gaze drifted to Allison, “Maybe you can look over the beastiery and see if there’s anything in there about keeping the darkness of the mind at bay.” She dropped her hand from Stiles’s arm and stood.

“Isaac you can keep an eye on Stiles in the classes you share, Scott too. At night maybe you guys can switch off,” She suggested realizing she was taking charge of the situation.

Scott cut off her next words, “I got a text from Derek in my last period,” he said reaching for his phone, “He’s back in town so he can probably help too. And maybe,” he hesitated, “Maybe we should get the twins involved.” He said even though he knew Stiles and Isaac wouldn’t like that idea. The more people around the less chance that something would happen to Stiles and that was all that Scott was worried about.

Stiles started to protest right around the time Scott mentioned Derek, but as soon as he mentioned the twins, he shook his head vehemently. “Nope. No way. They are not coming to my house, ever.” His voice was matter-of-fact. “I don’t trust them, Scott. They killed Boyd, and they tried to kill you and Isaac and they tried to kill Derek and -- no. Just no way.” He folded his arms across his chest.

Allison considered his words for a moment, knowing Isaac felt the same way that Stiles did when it came to the former alpha twins. “Stiles can always crash at our place. I mean, between my dad and I, he’ll be safe. So that’s another option.”

Lydia knew Stiles could probably stay with her too, it wasn’t like her Mom was around a lot. She could even go to his house, she’d been spending a lot of time there anyway and Mr. Stilinski had always been kind to her. But something made her keep that to herself. She nodded, “That’s definitely another option. No reason to involve the twins. But Derek might be an asset.” Plus he might know something about her Banshee screams and she was going to need all the help she could get if she was going to help keep Stiles safe.

“I’m sure Sour Wolf will be thrilled to be on bodyguard duty,” Stiles said wryly. If he would even agree to it. It wasn't like Stiles was his favorite person in the world. Pretty far from it, really. He glanced sideways at Lydia. “But I guess that’s enough of a plan for now, right? I should be okay til the end of the school day at least.” Assuming he didn't just drop dead or something.

Lydia wished he would stop saying things like that. It made her want to slap the moroseness right out of him, but she refrained. Lydia knew he was scared, she was too even if she didn't plan on admitting it ever. Lydia Martin didn't do scared...well okay she did, but only in certain cases. And this wasn't going to be one of them. She needed to be strong for Stiles, the way he was always strong for her. “As far as I know you'll be fine,” she said dryly.

Scott laughed softly trying to diffuse the tension. “At least you haven't lost your sense of humor,” he said with another squeeze of Stiles’ shoulder before dropping his hand. “So we're good with the plan here? I'll talk to Derek later today after school. Should we say anything to my Mom and what about your Dad?” He asked addressing Stiles.

Stiles blanched visibly. “No. No, I don't think -- I don't want to freak him out.” And he was pretty sure this would freak him out a lot. Then again, he was going to have to tell him something, if only because people were going to be invading his house or him invading other people’s houses. His face was paler now than it had been moments before, even though he probably should have anticipated that question.

Allison looked at him worriedly. “We can tell my dad, though, right? I mean, he’ll keep a secret and he can help.”

“Stiles breathe,” Lydia said quietly, “We should tell your Dad,” she said to Allison even though her eyes were still on Stiles. “He can help, but Stiles is right Mr. Stilinski doesn't need to know right now.” She knew it was hard for Stiles dealing with all of this and bringing his Dad in would only make the panic worse for him.

Isaac shuffled his feet, not exactly happy about having to babysit Stiles. Things between them lately had been frosty and he wasn't quite sure why. “So how do we explain hanging out at Stiles house then? Slumber party?” He asked shortly.

Allison sighed softly, folding her arms across her chest and looking at Lydia.

Stiles gritted his teeth involuntarily. “Scott and Lydia both hang out at my house a lot, so it won’t even seem unusual.” Well, except if Lydia planned to stay the night. That would be unusual. But he wasn't about to say that out loud because he pretty much doubted that was going to happen anyway. “I’ll just tell him there’s some wolf related thing going on.”

Lydia mashed her lips together, “Great,” she stood, “End of meeting,” she said with a flourish, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I've got to make sure I’m not late to my next class.” She stood and glanced over at Stiles, “Walk me?” she asked knowing he needed a break and figuring everyone needed some time to get their ducks in a row.

“Gladly.” Stiles exhaled as he followed her out of the classroom and down the hall without looking back. This was turning out to be a really long day. And not in a good kind of way.


	3. Chapter 3

Allison looked between Isaac and Scott after watching Lydia and Stiles head out the door. That hadn’t gone quite the way she’d anticipated, and whatever the tension was between Stiles and Isaac didn’t appear to be dying down anytime soon. She wondered if it bothered anyone else as much as it did her. Shoving those thoughts aside, because she knew how to prioritize, Allison leaned against the teacher’s desk.

“All right. Who’s on Stiles duty after school today?” Because she agreed with Scott and Lydia. Someone needed to be with him around the clock. If it was going to be her, she was going to have to take the lunch hour to head back home and confiscate the bestiary from her dad so she could begin going through it.

“I’ll do it,” came the unison reply from both Scott and Isaac. Scott paused glancing sideways at Isaac. He still wasn't really sure how he felt about his friend at the moment. It wasn't that he hated Isaac or that he was mad at him, not really.

But the thought of the other boy touching Allison in any way gave him the urge to punch him in the face, something his Mom had strictly forbidden him to do after he put a dent in the wall earlier in the week. Scott was feeling territorial even though he knew technically he didn't have a right to be. “Stiles is my best friend,” he said finally, “I can take the first night, how about you take tomorrow?”

Allison’s gaze slid over to Isaac as they awaited his response.

Isaac pursed his lips, nodding in agreement. He wasn't about to argue. Not with Scott, and not with Allison and definitely not about Stiles. He didn't really know what Stiles’ problem with him was, but it did bother him. Like Scott had said, Stiles was Scott’s best friend, and Isaac looked up to Scott. Sooner or later he’d have to confront Stiles about it unless the other guy confronted him first. Either way, they’d have to figure out a way to get past it. The one thing they definitely had in common was their dislike and mistrust of Aidan and Ethan. “Yeah, that works for me.” He shrugged a little.

“I’ll start working on going through my family’s bestiary right after school,” Allison spoke up. “See if there’s anything in there about dreams or the subconscious mind. I’ll see if Lydia can help me since she actually speaks archaic Latin.”

Scott nodded, “Good, let us know if you find anything.” He turned to Isaac, “Maybe you can fill Derek in tonight. He’s at his old place. We might need his help.” Scott knew that Derek hadn't always been the helpful type at least not in the conventional ways. But he’d changed and when he left Beacon Hills a couple of weeks back he’d left with them on good terms. They faced Deucalion together and Jennifer. They were on the same side, even if Derek tended to have people issues.

Isaac let his gaze fall on Allison. He’d been spending quite a bit of time at her place and though he’d miss seeing her that night this was important to Scott. “As long as you don’t need me for anything.” He said while scratching the back of his neck.

She offered Isaac a tiny smile, nodding and then looking at Scott once more. “I’ll call when I find something helpful.” She didn't bother saying if because there was no if involved. Not when a friend’s life was on the line. They’d find answers like they always did because they had to. “I should head to class.” She scooped her books off the desk and turned, heading for the door. “Call me if anything comes up.”

“I will,” they both said in unison again. Scott pursed his lips as he glanced at Isaac appraising him momentarily before glancing around. “I should head to class too. Call me if you need anything, oh and I think my Mom said she was working late tonight at the hospital, but there are leftovers in the fridge,” he told Isaac with a smile as he bent down slightly to grab his backpack.

“Meatloaf?” Isaac asked hopefully, grinning a little. Scott’s mom made amazing meatloaf, and while most teens didn't like meatloaf, Isaac was not like most teens in more ways than one.

Scott chuckled and gave Isaac a friendly slap on the back, “Just for you man,” he said with a shake of his head and motioned to the door. “I’ll see you later.” He said with a smile as he walked toward the classroom door. Having Isaac staying with him and his Mom was actually nice. He didn't mind his friend in his space most of the time. The Allison thing was awkward and uncomfortable, but Scott was confident they’d get past it eventually.

Isaac watched him go, then tugged his backpack onto his bag. He supposed he should head to class, too. Things with Scott and his mom were going well, and one of Mrs. McCall’s rules was that school was a priority, just after live-saving werewolf antics. He didn't want to let her down. But man, he was definitely looking forward to that meatloaf.

______

 

Lydia glanced out the window watching as Scott moved around Stiles’ property looking for something, anything. He was making sure things were safe even though when she’d suggested he check outside he looked at her like she was crazy. Apparently everyone was convinced it was the door left open in Stiles head that was causing her most recent death omen, and she agreed. But that didn't mean that something or someone wasn't behind it.

Her anxiety levels had risen throughout the day and when her mom called to let her know she’d be staying an extra day at the business convention, Lydia figured spending some time with Stiles trying to figure things out would be the best course of action. She moved away from the window and ran a hand down her wine colored dress. Her ankle boots were lying haphazardly on the floor near the side of Stiles’ bed.

Lydia sighed and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear as she walked back over to the bed and sat down. She glanced around the quiet bedroom and frowned as she tried to figure out where the faint sound of rushing water was coming from, at least that’s what it sounded like. Stiles had gone downstairs to get them a drink, maybe he was running the faucet. She shifted back on the bed and stretched out so her legs were in front of her.

Lydia picked at the hem of her dress as she tried to calm herself down, but at the moment that was easier said than done and she had no idea why. Lydia sighed wondering what was taking Stiles so long.

Scott had followed him home from school that day, his dad was working the night shift tonight, and the boys had been watching movies in Stiles’ room when the doorbell had rung. Stiles hadn't anticipated spending the evening with Lydia, but he couldn't say it was a bad thing. Except the reason that she was there was bad. She was afraid he was going to end up dying and yeah, obviously that wasn't good.

But it was still always good to see her, even if he’d just seen her at school a few hours before. He figured they could all order pizza and do some studying or something, so when Lydia suggested Scott take a look around outside, he immediately felt uneasy, wondering if this was a feeling she was having of some kind. Maybe he was being stalked or something and whatever was supposed to happen to him really wasn't in his power to control at all. Not that an open door in his mind was really something in his control. Or if it was, Stiles didn't know how to shut it.

So while Scott went outside patrolling like he was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stiles made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen to get something for him and Lydia to drink. When he returned to his room and found her sitting on his bed, he paused, trying to figure out the worried expression on her face. “Hey. You okay?” he asked uncertainly, moving over and sitting down beside her on the mattress.

Lydia glanced up startled wondering how she hadn't heard Stiles come into the room. “Yeah,” she said softly, even though she was pretty sure she wasn't, but really what was she supposed to say? ‘Hey Stiles, the thought of you dying freaks me out so bad I’m making myself crazy?’ Their situation wasn't typical and Stiles was already on edge. She needed to keep him grounded, at least that’s what she kept telling herself, though Lydia didn't think it was working.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she looked up from her dress and held Stiles gaze. “I feel like this whole thing is my fault because of...what I am.” Crazy Banshee girl, she thought with a sigh. “I can’t help feeling like I could be doing more and I know I said that before, but really all I’m doing is making everyone nervous and I can’t seem to pinpoint what is going to happen or when,” Lydia’s words ran into each other as she spoke her hands moving with her words as her heartbeat picked up speed. “I’m sorry.” She said again.

He blinked a couple of times when she started apologizing. “Lydia, you haven’t done anything wrong, okay? You don’t need to apologize.” He frowned at the way her lips tugged downward unhappily. He knew how much she liked to be in control, and her powers were anything but in control. It had to be driving her crazy.

He handed her the glass of juice he’d poured and took a sip of his own before setting it down on the nightstand. “Seriously. It’s pretty amazing that you had any kind of head’s up about this at all. That’s huge, you know?”

Lydia took the juice and brought it to her lips taking a long sip to moisten her throat before placing it beside Stiles’ on the nightstand. “I guess if by heads up you mean screaming about some unknown threat,” she said annoyed that she couldn't seem to get a handle on her powers or whatever they were.

“I've done the research, read the books, but nothing says anything about the extent of what I can do or how it all works.” Lydia shook her head, “Did you know in some cultures the Banshee is a creature of revenge?” She asked, “The Scottish people believe she punishes those who betray their loved ones.” She let her hands fall to the hem of her dress again and continued talking.

“In American folklore Banshee’s are just ghouls, harbingers of darkness.” Lydia said softly. “Sure the most popular mythology of the Banshee talks about death omens and stuff, but how do we know which one I am? How do we know that I’m,” she paused, “That I’m not bad or will become bad. What if my screaming is what brings all the death?”

His face paled a little at the mention of revenge for betraying loved ones. He wondered how exactly that worked, and what that particular definition of revenge was, but right now he shoved the thoughts out of his mind, more concerned with how she was doing. The more she talked, the more strained her voice became.

But when she asked how they knew she wasn't bad, he reached out, laying a hand on her arm. “Lydia, you aren't bad. Okay? I've known you for my entire life, and you know I’m good at sensing when someone is bad or evil. And trust me. You’re as far from that as it gets.” He gazed at her intently. “So you’re not evil or bad, and you’re not the one bringing all this here. You just got caught up in it because you feel it on a different level the rest of us don’t.”

Lydia’s expression softened. “Thanks,” she took a deep breath and let it out slowly before sending Stiles half a smile. He was always there to reassure her. “Enough about me though, how are you holding up?” she asked studying his face, concern clear in her features.

He hesitated a moment, then sighed softly, looking down. “Not gonna lie to you, Lyds. I’m freaked out,” he admitted. “Which isn't your fault, so before you start going there again -- I’m glad there’s at least a warning.” He looked up at her again. “It’s just...unsettling.”

Lydia pursed her lips and nodded, “Of course it is. But we’re all here. And we’re going to figure this out.” Even if she couldn't get a handle on how to control her ability. “No one is going to let anything happen to you.” Lydia reached out and placed a hand over his. She inhaled deeply, anxiety building in her stomach.

“Stiles, I wish I could do more.” she told him, “I wish,” Lydia let her sentence trail off, a dozen different thoughts going through her head as she tried to focus on one thing. All she knew was that something was happening to her and she couldn't control it and Lydia hated that.

Stiles looked down at their hands for a moment, then glanced back up at her when she said she wished she could do more. Then her voice trailed off and he gave her hand a light squeeze. “I know.” His voice was quiet.

“And I know if you could, you would.” He knew her well enough to know that. It wasn't something she needed to voice. She wanted to save lives as much as he did, as much as they all did. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she whispered not entirely sure why she was suddenly feeling emotional. Lydia prided herself on keeping herself together. She wore one face for everyone else and another when she was alone. It had always been that way. Fitting in, being popular, people expected her to be a certain way and so she purposely made herself fit that mold.

But lately, Lydia couldn't seem to keep that facade on when she was with Stiles or even Allison. Hell ever since she found out about werewolves and hunters she’d been an actual part of their group doing what she could to help. Lydia looked up again and brushed some hair out of her face. “I’m worried,” she admitted, “I don’t like not being able to determine the outcome of things.”

He shifted slightly on the bed so his body was angled toward her and he could look at her better. “No one likes to feel like they’re not in control. That’s completely normal. But you’re not alone, okay? We’ll figure this out.” He reached down and laced his fingers through hers.

Lydia glanced at their hands and swallowed hard. “You’re not either,” she told him as her eyes found his, her thumb brushing lightly against his skin. She could feel the knots in her stomach easing, his touch comforting her despite the fact that not long ago it had caused a completely different reaction. “We always figure things out.” Lydia said squeezing his hand gently trying to reassure him and herself.

Stiles offered her a small smile, nodded in agreement, and looked down at their hands for a long moment. “Exactly,” he agreed. “So no worries, okay? We’ll figure this out too. And whatever the next thing is. And the one after that.” Okay, maybe that wasn't so comforting after all. It was like a never-ending cycle of bad, and they’d opened up a can of worms with that ritual they’d done. He wondered if they’d ever see the end of the bad things they’d drawn to their little town. It wasn't like he regretted it; they’d done what they had to in order to save their parents. He’d do it again in a heartbeat. He just hoped they never had to do anything like it again.

“Okay,” Lydia sighed, “Well this just got a little more real than normal,” she joked. Her gaze drifted to the window. “Scott will probably be back soon, what did you want to work on first? History or Biology?” She asked trying to ignore the leftover unsettling feelings inside of her.

Stiles made a face, not really wanting to work on homework at all. “Whichever you’d rather is fine with me.” He gave her hand one more squeeze before reluctantly letting go of it.

Lydia felt his absence the minute his hand released hers and she was suddenly filled with nervous energy. She used her hands to slid to the edge of the bed, the soft fabric brushing against her legs as she let her feet touch the floor and stood. “We should probably work on Biology, you and Scott could use a boost in your grades,” she teased as she started pacing in front of Stiles’ bedroom window.

He arched an eyebrow. "Well, Scott yes, but as far as I know, an A's the highest grade you can get so I think I'm okay," he teased back. He frowned a little as he watched her beginning to pace. Normally Lydia wasn't a pacer, and Stiles was perceptive enough to notice things like that. He was a pacer. Which meant she was more worried than she was letting on. That, in turn, made his stomach tighten. "Hey." He reached out and stilled her movements by placing his hands on her shoulders.

Lydia blinked when Stiles appeared in front of her suddenly. Her brows drew together when she realized what she'd been doing. Lydia forced her body to relax the heat from Stiles' palms helping with that. "Hi," she said.

Lydia mashed her lips together letting her teeth sink into her bottom lip while catching Stiles' gaze. "I forgot your grades are as good as mine." she said finally with a slight smile. Most people didn't realize just how smart she was and Lydia liked it that way.

He searched her eyes for a moment, his own eyes troubled as he watched her. but when she bit her bottom lip, his gaze dropped there. Nope, don't go there, he thought. Just don't go there. You guys are friends now, don't dwell on possibilities that aren't valid.

Stiles drew in a breath and nodded. "It's okay. It isn't like we don't have other things to worry about, right?"

Lydia let out a strained laugh, "Yeah, I guess we have." She almost wished her mind would go completely blank so she could rest easy. It was hard not to be anxious when she was running dozens of different scenarios in her head of what could go wrong, how, and with who.

She was once again lost in her thoughts as she stood in front of Stiles the faraway sound of running water once again pulling at her senses.

"Lydia." His voice was soft, worried when he saw her eyes start to glaze over. "Hey. You with me?" Not really thinking about it, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pausing when he realized what he'd done, and holding his breath.

The simple action brought focus to Lydia's eyes and when they locked with Stiles' there was a hint of confusion in them. It only lasted a second before she swallowed hard and spoke. "Yes," her voice was soft and quiet. Lydia let her gaze drop briefly to his lips, the strange sound still lingering softly in the background.

He swallowed hard when she looked at his mouth, and dammit, he wished he was better at reading these kinds of things. It wasn't like he had a lot of experience. You’re dying. Just go for it, he thought. A soft sigh escaped him as he shifted closer, cupping her face in one hand before dipping his head and capturing her mouth in a tender kiss.

Clarity hit Lydia like a ton of bricks when she felt his lips against hers. They were soft, warm, and maybe even held a hint of roughness to them. Her hand reached out of it’s own accord and curled around his shirt, bunching the material in the palm of her hand as she moved her lips reflexively against his.

Lydia let her eyes fall shut as her heartbeat sped up. The anxiety in her stomach disappeared replaced by a new feeling that she hadn't felt in a long time. She broke the kiss a minute later, parting their lips and sucking in a sharp breath. “It’s gone,” she whispered, her head completely silent, the sound she’d been hearing and the strangling darkness gone completely for the moment anyway.

It was his turn to feel slightly dazed as he blinked a few times when she broke the kiss. Her words made no sense. It was gone? What was gone? he wondered, confused. In the back of his mind he did a victory dance at the fact that she hadn’t slapped him or shoved him away. She’d returned the kiss. What did that mean?

“What’s gone?” he asked uncertainly, taking a step back from her to try and focus on their conversation rather than the fact that he wanted to kiss her again. And again after that.

Lydia flushed, a rare occurrence, when she realized she’d said that out loud. “There was this weird noise, but it’s gone now.” She glanced at Stiles appraisingly and uncurled her hand from his shirt. “What was that for?” She asked remembering a time not long ago where she’d kissed him out of nowhere too.

“Weird noise?” he echoed, frowning. When she pulled her hand away and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, it was his turn to flush. “Oh. Uh, well, you seemed like you were anxious or upset or something and I thought maybe the whole holding your breath technique might help you the same way it did me so…” His voice trailed off and he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly unsure of whether or not she’d been okay with him kissing her.

Lydia’s lip twitched at the corner as she held his gaze. “Good thinking,” she said a soft smile finally pulling at her lips. “Thanks,” she added before addressing the other part of his question and trying not to think about how good the kiss felt. “I’m not sure, it sounded like a faucet or something,” she told him with a wave of her hand, “It’s gone though.”

Stiles chewed his lower lip, nodding at her response to his answer about the kiss. Apparently they weren't going to talk about it this time either. It was probably for the best. “So like water.” This time, he began to pace, though at a slower pace than she.

“Stop,” Lydia said, a warning in her tone as she watched him starting to pace again. “Yes, water.” she told him as she turned. “I’m not sure why, but it’s probably nothing. Now, homework,” she said as she walked over to the bed, sat on the edge and reached for one of the text books. “Well, come on. I’m not going to bite you know.” Lydia glanced at Stiles and smiled hiding the sliver of disappointment that he’d used the same excuse she had when kissing her. With everything going on though, it was probably for the best.

______

 

It always came back to the fucking Nemeton. The night was rainy and cold and he shivered as it drenched him to the bone. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, Stiles approached the stump, drawn to it like a magnet. He licked his lips, reaching out to touch it, only to be grabbed by a vine that wound its way around his wrist, yanking him closer.

“No,” he protested as it pulled him closer, like it was trying to eat him alive.

It wound around him more tightly until he was actually laying atop it, more vines creeping up and binding him to the tree, water beginning to fall directly into his face, though he couldn’t find the source.

He was choking on it, gagging as he tried to spit it out. But the fluid kept raining down on him, pouring down his mouth and into his nose.

Stiles couldn’t breathe.

Scott shifted on the floor, turning in his sleep, hand stretched out beneath the pillow, light snoring filling the room. In the back of his head he could hear a noise urging him from sleep. Scott groaned flipping onto his back and blinking his eyes open, the ceiling staring back at him.

He lifted his hand and rubbed it down his face trying to figure out what had pulled him from sleep. It had been a long night making sure Stiles’ house was secure and then studying with Lydia until she left, and Scott was exhausted. He felt Stiles’ bed shifted and he tilted his head back to get a look at his friend and the second he did, Scott’s eyes widened.

“Stiles, wake up!” He called as he stood, his hands reaching out to his friend as he watched water spill from Stiles’ mouth. “What the hell...Stiles wake up!” He all but shouted as he shook him, fear gripping him hard as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

He gasped for breath but instead of air, there was just more water, pouring out of him while he flailed involuntarily, panicking even as Scott shouted his name. It’s just a dream, he told himself, trying to calm his body’s natural reaction to drowning. Wake up, Stiles. Wake up, he thought desperately, body heaving up the water from his lungs.

His heart was pounding so hard he was afraid it was going to burst out of his chest. But if it stopped the pain that was literally exploding in his head maybe that would be the better alternative. Wake up.

Stiles tried to focus on Scott’s voice, but even as his best friend turned him onto his side, the edges of his vision were getting fuzzy, going dimmer. Where the hell was all the water coming from? He reached out, grabbing onto Scott’s arm and squeezing hard, eyes spilling tears down his cheeks. He was going to die.

Scott bent down and gripped Stiles arm, “No, it’s not going to happen like this you hear me?” He said, his voice hard and emotional as he tried to expand his senses to figure out what was causing this. “Stiles hold on, I’m going to fix this I promise, just,” Scott’s voice cut out for second as he spoke through the lump in his throat, “Please,” he said his voice breaking as he banged his hand carefully against Stiles’ back trying to get as much water out as possible, but from the look on his friends face, it wasn’t helping...nothing was and Scott wasn’t sure what else to do. How he hell was he supposed to fix this?

***

Lydia frowned as she walked barefoot in the woods, confusion filling her as she spotted the Nemeton with a bunch of vines growing beside it. Unbelievable Why was she there and what was going on? She must be dreaming. She started to turn around and walk away when the vines moved, shifting and separating.

Lydia’s eyes turned to slits and when she heard a scream her eyes shot wide open, fear filling her body and making her go ridged. “Oh god Stiles!” She ran across the forest, feet hitting the ground, leaves crunching under them. She practically threw herself at the vines, clawing and scratching at them as she yelled for Stiles, but nothing helped. She couldn’t get to him.

Her body thrashed back and forth on her bed and she frowned in her sleep. Lydia could see the water now, it was everywhere, but not matter how much she called for him or pulled at the vines nothing gave way. And just like that Lydia woke with a powerful scream, her body jerking up in bed, as her voice pierced through the room, mouth wide, eyes vacant.

Beside her, Allison shot up in bed, eyes widening as her best friend screamed loudly, more loudly than she could ever remember anyone screaming. “Lydia!” She reached out, turning the lamp on quickly and turning to the redhead with frightened eyes. “What’s going on? What did you see?”

Lydia sobbed and gripped her throat as she sucked in several deep breaths her hand shaking as she placed it on the bed beside between her and Allison, her lungs burning with a need for oxygen. “Stiles,” she gasped her voice hoarse as she reached over to her nightstand fumbling with things and knocking them down until her hand closed over her cell phone.

Her chest was still tight, as she continued breathing in air greedily. “I…” she paused, “Can’t breathe...couldn’t breathe. Stiles.” Lydia said again as she pressed the button on her phone and called Stiles knowing she wouldn’t be okay until she heard his voice.

It barely registered when Scott flinched a moment later because he realized that the water was gone, that he was pulling air into his lungs now instead. He gasped, shuddering as he gripped his friend’s arm for a second longer before he let go, shoving himself into a seated position on the bed. His eyes were still wild as he looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What...am I dreaming? Am I still dreaming?” His voice shook as he looked down at his hands. “What’s happening?” Distantly he heard the sound of his cell phone ringing, but it didn’t occur to him what it was until after it had stopped.

Scott was sitting on the bed now next to Stiles, relief coloring his features. “Your awake, it’s okay,” he said even though it was far from okay. Scott had seen a lot of things since he’d become a werewolf, but he’d never seen anything like that before. “What were you dreaming Stiles, what happened man?” He needed to know what the hell was going on in his friends head that might have caused this.

He drew in a ragged breath, looking down at his now-soaked t-shirt. Where the hell had all that water come from? Instinctively, he looked up to see if there was a hole in the ceiling, thinking maybe it was raining…

Raining. It had been raining. “The Nemeton.” He swallowed hard. “I was dreaming about the Nemeton.” He raked a shaky hand through his hair. “It grabbed me.”

Scott frowned, “But...Stiles you were, there was water coming out of your mouth.” He said his brows drawing together, chest tightening at the image of his friend trying to take a breath while water poured out of his mouth flashed in front of his eyes. “You scared the crap out of me.” Scott said quietly as the sound of a phone going off broke the silence in the room again.

“It was raining,” he murmured. “It was raining a lot.” He ran a hand over his throat, which was burning from the choking he’d been doing. The choking that had been very, very real. Disoriented, he reached out and picked up his cell phone, seeing Lydia’s name flash across the screen. He pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Thank god, I called twice,” Lydia said a spark of anger in her voice, but it was only there to mask the fear. Her hand that held the phone couldn’t seem to keep steady and she avoided looking at Allison as she spoke. “Are you okay?” It was a stupid question, of course he wasn’t okay, but what else could she ask? Hearing his voice was helping, but not nearly enough.

He didn’t answer for a moment, because he didn’t know how. How did you tell someone that you just drowned in your sleep when there wasn’t even any water around? It made no sense. Then again, what in their lives really did make sense these days? “No. No, not really,” he admitted, exhaling. The problem was, he didn’t know how he could change that.

Lydia was quiet for a second, “I felt it,” she whispered, “I thought...Stiles.” She paused again swallowing heavily to moisten her throat, “We need some help. We need someone who knows more about the Nemeton and how it works.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that she’d been terrified that he was dead or that all she wanted to do was hug him, because it was an out of character emotion for her and yet really it was all Lydia wanted at the moment.

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhausted and yet wide awake from the adrenaline that was still coursing through his veins. “Yeah. We need…” He paused, glancing up and looking at Scott. “We need Deaton.”

Scott didn’t even question it. “I’ll call him in the morning.” He glanced at the clock and winced at the time. It was early, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be going back to sleep again that night, not after what he saw.

Stiles nodded slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Scott says he’ll call him in the morning.” He shut his eyes. He wanted to tell her what had happened, but for now he figured it was best to let her just think she’d somehow felt his dream. Maybe it would give her a chance to get some rest for the night, even if he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to be sleeping again in the near future.

“Okay,” She said glancing down at her blanket and picking at it. “I guess I should let you go?” Lydia said though it came out as more of a question than anything else. She didn’t want to let him go, but she knew there wasn’t much she could do from over the phone in the middle of the night.

His chest felt tight and he chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “My dad’s working third shift tonight.” He wasn’t even sure what made him say it, really. “You guys could come over.”

Lydia let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She said already throwing the covers off her body as she held the phone to her ear. “I’ve just got to grab a change of clothes for school tomorrow and we’ll head over.” She paused in front of her closet and tilted her head to the side as she glanced over her clothes. “Stay safe until we get there.” Lydia said leaving no room for argument.

Allison arched her eyebrows at the turn of events unfolding in front of her, wondering exactly what the hell was going on. Instead of asking questions -- which she’d save for the car ride over to Stiles’, she got out of bed and changed into the clothes she’d picked out for school the next day, slipping her shoes on.

“Yeah. Yeah, I will. And uh -- drive safe, okay?” he added quietly.

“I will. We’ll see you soon.” She said before disconnecting the call. Lydia grabbed a skirt, a blouse and a pair of heels tossing them into a duffle bag as she glanced over her shoulder at Allison. She cocked her head to the side when she saw her friend already dressed. “Thanks,” she said sending Allison half a smile.

“Sure. You wanna fill me in, though? What’s going on?” There was definite confusion in Allison’s voice. “Is Stiles okay?”

Lydia shook her head as she pulled a pair of sweats on beneath her lace nightgown. “No, he’s not. He says he’s fine, but I know better.” She said softly. “I’ll explain what happened on the way to his house, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, frowning deeply. That didn’t sound good at all.

______

 

Scott ran a hand through his hair and made a face as he lifted a blanket off the floor confusion on his face as he watched Stiles. “So you’re saying Allison and Lydia are on their way here...now?” He said while pointing down trying to make sure he was hearing his friend right. Scott glanced at the clock, “We’re going to have to take out the sleeping bags aren’t we?” He didn’t think they’d be coming over this late unless they were staying, which was something else that Scott found odd especially after what just happened.

“She’s freaked out,” Stiles told Scott, arching his eyebrows. “I couldn’t tell her no.” Not that he would have even if he’d felt like he could have. This was Lydia Martin they were talking about, the girl he’d loved since he was eight years old. “It’s not a big deal, dude. We’ll just, I don’t know, watch movies or something.” He shrugged, pulling his wet t-shirt off over his head. The t-shirt that was drenched with water he’d been choking on in his dream. God their lives were weird.

Scott blinked, “Dude you just choked on a mouth full of water,” he pointed to the still damp floor, “It literally came out of your mouth, poured actually. And you're worried about Lydia freaking out?” Scott couldn’t help the chuckle that left his throat. “You’ve got it so bad.” He said with a shake of his head, a grin pulling at his lips.

The sound of a door opening made him glance at the open bedroom door. His eyebrows lifted, “She knows where the spare key is? How often does she come here?” Scott asked wondering if he’d missed something with everything that had been going on lately.

He groaned a little. Like he needed the reminder of how bad he had it for Lydia. He knew that his crush on Lydia had long since grown past epic proportions and that it was now somewhat both sad and pathetic, considering. He changed into a clean shirt before turning to face Scott once more. “Yes. I’m worried about her freaking out.” His voice was flat, but not harsh. Not with Scott. He could be harsh with nearly anyone else, but Scott wasn’t one of those people.

Stupid jerk.

“Uhh…” He shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Once in awhile?” he tried, looking at his friend innocently. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what point Lydia had started hanging out regularly at his house, in his bedroom and on his bed and when it had become just another part of their friendship.

Scott smirked, “You’ve been keeping things from me, not cool.” He said his tone mockingly stern. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, two heartbeats, one steady the other erraticly vibrating in his ears. Scott glanced at the door right as Lydia and Allison came into the doorway. His gaze fell on Allison and he hesitated, “Ladies,” he said while reaching back and scratching his neck.

Lydia's gaze quickly darted passed Scott and to Stiles who was pulling on a shirt. She maneuvered her way into the room quickly walking around Scott and practically threw herself at Stiles wrapping her arms around his neck, her heartbeat finally starting to calm down. “You’re okay.” She stated even though there was still a hint of a question in her voice.

Allison offered Scott a small, hesitant smile in return, arching her eyebrows as she watched her best friend launch herself at Stiles and hug him tightly.

Stiles was surprised for a brief second, but he wrapped his arms around Lydia in return, exhaling slowly as he nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.” Sort of, anyway. Choking on dream water wasn’t exactly normal, that was for sure. But their lives hadn’t been normal for a pretty long time now and he doubted they ever would be again. Not really. “Are you okay?” He pulled back to look at her, eyes filled with worry.

Lydia nodded, “I had to make sure...you couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t help,” she whispered. “I tried in my dream I tried.”

Scott frowned. “What do you mean you tried to help in your dream?” He glanced between Lydia and Allison.

Lydia let her hands fall from Stiles arms and she swallowed hard as she turned to face Scott and Allison. “I saw him being attacked by the Nemeton. It grabbed him and there was so much rain and then...I couldn't breathe. If felt like,” she paused, “Like I was drowning.”

Scott’s eyes widened and darted to Stiles. “He was drowning. Here.” He pointed to the part of the floor that was still wet.

“What?” Lydia’s voice seemed shrill when she spoke. “How is that possible?”

Allison’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean, he was actually --” Her gaze fell to the floor where there was a large water puddle there. “Wait.” She held her hand up and looked at Lydia. “Has this ever happened before? Where you’ve actually witnessed someone else’s dream?” Because that was new for her. And it was huge.

Stiles reached out and curled his fingers around Lydia’s arm gently. “It’s fine. I’m okay.” Although truthfully he was a little more freaked out than he cared to admit.

Lydia shook her head, “No, never.” She barely remember her own dreams let alone ran around in other people’s. She had been pretty good dealing with the whole Banshee thing and finding out about werewolves and crazy Darach’s. But Lydia was pretty sure this was all starting to get to her.

She pulled herself from her thoughts and arched an eyebrow while glancing between Scott and Stiles. “Well, how did you stop it?”

Scott shrugged, his shoulders lifting high as he shook his head. “I have no clue. One minute I was leaning over him freaking out and the next it was over and then Stiles was answering the phone and it was you.” He explained not sure how they had shared the same dream, but knowing this definitely wasn’t a good thing.

Stiles looked between them for a moment as they talked, something clicking in his mind. Something that made him more than a little uneasy. “Uh.”

Allison frowned, looking worried. “You two were literally sharing an actual dream.” A dream in which Stiles was dying. That definitely wasn’t normal, but maybe it was just part of Lydia’s unfound banshee abilities. Maybe it was going to be her new thing.

“The ritual.” Stiles swallowed hard, gaze darting up to look at Scott first, then at Lydia.

Scott frowned and he and Lydia spoke at the same time. “The ritual?” She sent a disapproving look in Scott’s direction before directing her statement at Stiles. “What ritual?”

Realization hit Scott. “The Nemeton ritual. Lydia was your anchor…” he said letting his voice trail off. But what exactly did it mean that they were sharing dreams?

Stiles nodded silently, looking at her once more. He’d drowned in that ritual, and he’d drowned in his dream, and he had the distinct feeling that it had been Lydia who’d saved his life by pulling him back both times. “I think...you literally were in my dream tonight. And I think if you hadn’t been…” His voice trailed off.

Allison’s eyes widened a little as she looked at Scott with alarm. If Lydia hadn’t been in Stiles’ dream, he believed he would’ve died.

Scott swallowed hard and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s late. Why don’t we all try to relax and tomorrow morning we’ll all go see Deaton, he’s our best bet to figuring this out if it has something to do with the Nemeton.” Scott knew they had already decided to do that, but he didn’t think reiterating the decision would hurt anyone.

“I’m gonna go grab some paper towels and sleeping bags from the closet,” Scott turned to Stiles, “They’re still in the same place right?”

Stiles glanced at him, nodding once more. “Yeah.” His voice was quiet, quieter than usual, troubled by the weight of his own suspicions. Troubled because it meant more trouble for all of them and not just him. Because it meant more trouble for her and he hated being the one to cause that kind of trouble. He exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck and then opening his closet, pulling out a couple of extra blankets and pillows while Scott dug the sleeping bags out of the hall closet.

“I’m just -- gonna help Scott with the sleeping bags,” Allison said, ducking out of the room.

Lydia watched Stiles for a minute before breaking the silence in the room. “How are you really doing?” She asked as she walked up behind him. “You can tell me.” She said quietly.

“Freaked out,” he said honestly, not turning to look at her. “More than a little freaked out, really.”

Lydia hesitated, but only for a second before shifting forward and resting a hand on the back of his shoulder, squeezing it gently.”We’re going to figure this out. I promise.” They had to.

“I’m sorry you’re caught up in the middle of this crap.” His voice was sincere, but he still didn’t turn around.

Lydia frowned, “Stiles look at me,” she said softly, “Come on turn around.” She said as she ran her hand down his back.

He drew in a breath and turned to face her like she requested, expression weary. He knew what she was going to say. That she wasn’t sorry that she was caught up in the middle of things, even if on some level she was. Stiles knew she wanted to help, that she didn’t like being left out of things the way she had been for so long. But being so deeply involved in all of the supernatural business was incredibly dangerous, and taxing, and for the sake of her safety and sanity he hated it for her.

Lydia reached up and cupped his cheek. “You’re thinking too much, stop.” She commanded. “I don’t regret helping or being here. I just want you to be okay.” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “We’ll talk to Deaton, he’ll know what to do, but until then I think Scott might be right. Maybe we all just need to take a breath and calm down.”

Stiles held his breath as he gazed at her for a long moment, nodding reluctantly as he leaned into her touch. “So we’ll just...have a slumber party,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “I could make some popcorn and we can watch movies.” No way in hell was he planning to go back to sleep tonight.

Lydia smiled, “Great, I like M & M’s with my popcorn,” she said as she glanced over to where she’d dropped her bag. She unbuttoned her jacket and slid it off before glancing down, “Um and maybe a shirt?” She said taking in her nightgown. Probably not the best thing to be wearing in a room full of people.

He blinked a couple of times. “You do?” There was genuine surprise in his voice. “I didn’t realize other people did that.” And then he was staring at her in her nightgown, face flushing as he turned around, swallowing hard. “Right. Shirt. I can do that.” He forced himself to take a deep breath before pulling out a Beacon Hills Lacrosse t-shirt from his closet and holding it out for her.

Lydia couldn’t quite hide the smile that pulled at her lips as she took the shirt from him. “Thanks,” she said as she tossed her jacket aside and pulled it over her head. “I didn’t know you liked your popcorn that way either. Great minds and all.” She said as she walked over to Stiles bed and sat on the edge bringing her hand to her mouth covering a yawn.

“My uh -- my mom. She introduced my dad to the concept of popcorn and M&M’s when they were dating.” Stiles smiled faintly, ducking his head for a moment. “Apparently he thought it was a really strange combination and ever since then, it’s been one of the famous Stilinski food pairings.”

Lydia tilted her head to the side. “It’s a good pairing, the best.” She said softly. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything Scott walked back into the room with some sleeping bags. “Okay, how are we setting this up? Oh I got paper towels for the water too.” He said breaking the moment between Lydia and Stiles.

If he’d been anyone else, Stiles probably would have glared. Instead, he just shook his head good-naturedly. “The girls can have the bed,” he suggested. “We can take the floor.”

Scott dropped the sleeping bags on the floor and bent down to wipe up the water with the paper towels. “Works for me.” He said while wiping it up. He tossed the crumpled up paper towels in Stiles’ garbage and then laid out the sleeping bags. He glanced between Stiles and Lydia, “Allison is grabbing some snacks, I’m thinking a comedy...something without water or supernatural creatures,” he joked trying to lightly the mood.

“So Jaws is out?” Stiles said wryly, smirking involuntarily.

“No sharks before bed,” Allison responded as she walked in carrying a couple different bags of chips, a jar of peanut butter, and some celery stalks.

“Kill joy,” he shot back, plucking one of the chip bags from her hands and opening it.

“We can do better than Jaws,” Lydia said as she slid off the bed and sat on one of the sleeping bags stretching out her legs. “I vote for The Notebook,” she said as she reached for a celery stick.

Scott shook his head. “I veto The Notebook.” He said with a grin as he stole one of Stiles’ chips. “Action?” He suggested as he sat down too and leaned back against the bed.

Allison flopped back onto Stiles’ bed, rolling her eyes at her friends. Only the four of them would be having an argument about which movie to watch less than an hour after two of them had shared a supernatural dream and one of them had nearly died.

______

 

The Sheriff ran a hand down the back of his neck and sighed as he walked into the kitchen. He had just gotten off a triple shift and he was exhausted. He glanced at the clock and groaned. He needed to make sure Stiles was awake and getting ready for school before he showered, slept for a few hours and headed back to the station.

He took a few steps pausing at the chair to strip off his coat. He draped it over the back of the chair and then headed down the hallway. He passed Stiles room figuring he’d change real quick first, but paused when he saw something odd out of the corner of his eye.

He pursed his lips and backtracked taking a few steps back before turning to face his sons open bedroom door. His brows lifted when he spotted stiles sleeping on his stomach on the floor with Lydia beside him, her hand resting along his back. Scott’s head was on his son’s legs and Allison was resting between Lydia and Scott her head against Scott’s torso.

The Sheriff was silent for a minute, “What the hell…” his voice trailed off and he stepped into the room careful not to step on any stray limbs. He came to a stop beside Stiles and squatted, keeping his temper in check he shook his son gently awake. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Stiles jerked his head up, blinking a few times as he tried to figure out why his dad was waking him up. And then he spotted Lydia, asleep beside him, one shoulder bare from where the too-large shirt had slipped down her arm, and Scott, snoring softly less than two feet away, Allison’s head on Scott’s torso and her legs tangled with Lydia’s. From his dad’s perspective, it didn’t paint a very innocent picture. Awkward.

“Nightmares,” he said honestly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake his friends. He willed his dad to understand, to not be upset. He himself had been dealing with Stiles’ nightmares for years and more recently, very vivid ones he’d had to scream himself awake from, waking to find himself wrapped in his dad’s arms as he tried to calm Stiles down. They hadn’t talked about the actual dreams, and Stiles hadn’t told him the details. Yeah, he was in on the werewolf secret, but Stiles couldn’t fight the urge he had to keep trying to protect his father by leaving him out of some of the darker aspects of the reality Stiles and his friends faced regularly. He just hoped that his dad knew and understood him well enough to get that he was being serious and honest this time.

The sheriff held his son’s gaze trying to figure out whether or not he was telling the truth, but one look at his face and he knew he was. Stiles exaggerated a lot of truths and told some off colored lies with a side of sarcasm, but nine times out of ten it was for a good reason. Now that he knew about Scott and...things Stiles had been good about not keeping too much from him.

“We’re going to need to talk about this at some point.” He said keeping his voice quiet as he glanced around at the rest of the kids on the floor.

He swallowed hard, nodding slightly in agreement because he couldn’t exactly tell him no. He couldn’t exactly tell him the truth, either, but agreeing would at least buy him some time to come up with a valid explanation that wouldn’t freak his dad out entirely. He was pretty sure that “Hey, Pops, we did this ritual a few weeks ago where me and Scott and Allison died, but it was all so that you and Mrs. McCall and Mr. Argent could live, and ever since then, my mind’s been an open door for death beckoning me closer,” wouldn’t go over very well.

“Okay.” He raked a hand through his hair, looking down at Lydia for a second, then back up at his dad. “Work was okay?” he whispered.

He didn’t miss the way his son glanced at Lydia, but he said nothing and nodded. “Work was fine,” well the part where he could avoid Scott’s Dad, but he didn’t say that either. “I’ve got to head back in a few hours, but I wanted to make sure you were up for school.” He explained keeping his voice low.

Lydia sighed softly and shifted, “Stiles,” she mumbled in her sleep shifting her hand on his back, but not waking up.

The Sheriff arched an eyebrow at his son. “Nightmares?” He said verifying Stiles’ admission wanting to make sure he’d heard him right.

“Nightmares,” he echoed without hesitation, gaze flickering to Lydia once more, worriedly. He looked at his dad. “That’s all it was, Dad.” At least for the other three that’s all it was. It was a lot more than that for Stiles, in more ways than one. “I’m up. I’ll wake them in a minute,” he assured his dad.

The Sheriff nodded, “Alright, but every single one of you better be in school,” he said while straightening up and pointing at his son. “I’ll be checking in later you hear?” He asked as he started making his way back toward the bedroom door stepping over Scott in the process, whose snoring seemed to grow louder by the second.

Stiles rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, dropping his head forward and onto the pillow beneath him. Well. That was certainly one way to start a new day, he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Stiles had been unusually quiet as the four teens had gotten ready for school at his house and then split off -- Lydia and Allison heading for school while he and Scott headed to Deaton’s office. To say that he was uneasy about everything that was happening would be a serious understatement of his feelings. His thoughts were focused on what they’d come to believe had happened -- that somehow he and Lydia had shared an actual dream, and she’d saved his life.

He was also trying to work out what he was going to tell his dad that night, because he had no doubt that would be the first thing on his dad’s mind when he got home after school. Fortunately he had taken two Adderall this morning so with any luck that would keep him focused and able to plan.

Stiles glanced at Scott sideways, trying to gauge how freaked out his best friend was by everything that was going on. “You think he’s even here yet?” It was early, after all.

Scott glanced at the small veterinary clinic and focused his sense on the inside of the building. He tilted his head to the side and then nodded. “He’s in there. He’s feeding the cats.” Scott said before glancing at Stiles. His friend had been way too quiet during the ride to Deaton’s and he wasn’t really sure where his head was at.

Scott unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted to face Stiles. “Where’s your head at man, talk to me.”

He was silent for a moment, glancing over at him again before sighing and leaning back in the seat. “I have to ask you something and it’s important. I know what you’ll want to say because I know what I’d say if the situation was reversed, but I just...I need you to do something for me, Scott, and you’re the only one who can.”

Scott’s brows drew together at the seriousness in Stiles voice. He leaned forward just a bit, “You’re my best friend Stiles, you’re my brother,” he reached out and rested an open palm on Stiles’ shoulder. “Anything,” he said without hesitation.

He knew that Scott wasn’t going to like what he was going to say and he didn’t blame him for that, but Stiles didn’t have the luxury of assuming that things were going to be okay. He was always the guy who had a plan. Not necessarily a good plan, but a plan nonetheless. And it just so happened that his best friend was his Plan B in this case. “Right. Okay, so obviously this is all going to work out and whatever, but if it doesn’t, I need you to promise me you’ll look after my dad.” He swallowed hard. Someone would have to if Stiles wasn’t around to do it himself.

Scott opened his mouth and then slammed it shut. “Stiles...It’s going to be okay,” he could already see Stiles starting to protest and he held up his hand, “But if it’s not I’ll look out for him. We all will.” He said quietly his chest tightening. He didn’t like the thought of a world that didn’t have Stiles in it. He’d been his best friend since he could remember and there was no way he was letting anything happen to him.

Nodding, Stiles met his eyes for a moment, gave him a tight, tired smile and climbed out of the jeep, exhaling. He’d gone back to sleep the previous night after Lydia and Allison had shown up and they’d popped in a copy of the Matrix. He didn’t even remember falling asleep or even trying to fight sleep. Just that one minute he’d been awake and the next minute his dad was waking him up. He was still tired, though, his body feeling slower than usual as he walked toward the front door of the vet clinic. “Deaton?” he called.

Deaton glanced up as he shut one of the cages the sound of Stiles’ voice pulling him from the back of the room. He opened the door and stepped out into the main examination room before wiping his hands on a towel. Deaton made his way to the front of the hospital and glanced between Stiles and Scott, smile on his face. “Morning Scott, Stiles. What can I do for you two this morning?” He asked glancing at the clock figuring it must be important for them to miss school.

Scott cleared his throat, “We’re here about the ritual. You told us to close the door and I think Allison and I did, but Stiles…” Scott’s voice trailed off and he swallowed hard.

Deaton frowned and looked from Scott to Stiles. “What seems to be happening?” He asked knowing he couldn’t help until he got the full story.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I nearly drowned to death in my sleep last night,” he said, not even trying to be clever or sarcastic about it. “And somehow...Lydia was there in my dream and saved my life.” He leaned back against the counter, keeping his eyes on Deaton. “Like, she was literally in my dream, not just as a guest star.”

Deaton blinked. “The two of you shared a dream?” He asked the interest clear in his voice. It had been a long time since he’d heard of something like that happening.

He bit back a sarcastic remark about following his train of thought. He’d been pretty clear. Instead, he nodded shortly, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s obviously not normal, so we were hoping maybe you had some idea of what was going on.”

Deaton pressed his lips together and shifted pushing open the small door for them, “Come on in back,” he said before turning and heading for the small bookshelf in the back of the office. He ran his fingers across a few of the volumes there before pulling out a leather bound slightly tattered book. He walked it over to the examination table and set it down.

Deaton flipped through it for a couple of minutes before he stopped on a page with a photo of a tree that looked similar to the Nemeton. He glanced up and turned the book so Stiles and Scott could see it. “When you three first decided to do the ritual to help your parents, I told you it was dangerous. That a piece of yourself would be filled with darkness probably for the rest of your lives,” he explained.

Scott nodded, “We know and then the whole thing with the door. I think Allison and I beat it because we faced our fears. I let myself transform so I could save Malia,” he said as he scratched the back of his head, “And Isaac helped Allison get over her crazy fear of shooting or whatever it was.” He still wasn’t certain since he hadn’t talked to her much in detail.

“But what about Stiles, why didn’t it work for him?” Scott asked confused.

Deaton pointed to the book. “Sometimes when you have a strong connection to something or someone when doing a ritual like this that connection grows. It seems like a part of Stiles might actually still be on the other side of that door that isn’t fully closed.” Deaton explained.

“And Lydia as your anchor is the only person who can help you get that piece back and shut the door for good.” He pointed to the picture in the book and motioned for them to look. “The Druids don’t have a technical name for the in between state, but it’s similar to Bardo. There’s a ritual that can be performed to let Lydia crossover with you and help you shut the door, but it can only be performed on a full moon and it requires more power than I have.” He said a frown on his face.

Now he was starting to get nervous. He didn’t want to hear that Lydia was going to be dragged further into this in order to solve it even though she wouldn’t protest jumping farther into the abyss to help him out. And the fact that this ritual had to be done on a full moon suggested that not only was it dangerous, it was requiring more power than the emissary could call upon.

“Let’s...talk about how dangerous this ritual is,” Stiles said uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other. Because the last one he’d engaged in had ended in three of them dying and supernatural doors opening in all their minds.

Deaton glanced at Scott for a minute before turning to answer Stiles. “There’s always a risk with every ritual, but this one is considerably less dangerous than the one you three partook in for the Nemeton.” He said keeping his tone light.

“Less dangerous for me? Or less dangerous for her?” He looked at Scott briefly, too, chewing his thumbnail absently.

Scott let out a breath. Stiles was never going to agree to this if it involved Lydia. “Deaton, you said there isn’t enough power now, will the full moon be enough or are you going to need us too?” He asked knowing that sometimes the more people the more power.

Deaton nodded, “We would need you, Derek, and the rest of the pack.” He explained, “And Stiles it’s not a matter of being less or more dangerous. Everything we do on a mystical level has the ability to go awry, but with this you won’t be as close to death. We just need Lydia to go inside your head with you and the spell to converge two minds has to be done a certain way to keep things safe. Precautions are taken because melding two consciousness’s in one place is tricky.”

“Right, but it is dangerous. It’s tricky. Which means things can go awry, like you said. So what are the possible consequences?” The previous ritual, he hadn’t really cared what the consequences were. His dad’s life was on the line. Scott’s mom and Allison’s dad’s lives were on the line. That made it different. It made the risk worth it. It made it not his fault if something went wrong and he didn’t wake up.

But if something went wrong this time, and Lydia got hurt, or one of the pack got hurt, that would be his fault. He wanted to know all the possibilities. He wanted to lay all the cards out on the table in advance to weigh the risks against the possible victory.

Scott knew Stiles would ask that because he was the type of person who cared more about other people them himself. “Stiles we’re all willing to risk what needs to be risked for you. You’re our friend,” he reminded him. Besides it wasn’t his decision what they did and if Stiles said no, Scott would just call Lydia.

Deaton pointed to Scott. “The risks to Scott and the rest of the pack are minimal. They might feel a bit drained for a day, two at the most, but other than that, there’s no risk.” He explained calmly.

Stiles shot Scott a look, but fell silent as Deaton elaborated on the risks. If that was the only side effects of the ritual, he supposed it was worth a shot. So he drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Right. Okay, so uh...we’ve got what? A week before the next full moon?” He knew it was seven days of course, because he’d started tracking the lunar cycles the same night he’d figured out that his best friend was an actual werewolf. “What do we have to do to get this set up?”

Deaton opened his mouth, but Scott spoke before he could. “You said members of the pack...what about Stiles and Lydia.” Technically Scott would always consider them a part of his pack, but they weren’t wolves and he had a feeling Deaton had been referring to the wolves.

Deaton was hoping they wouldn’t catch that, but he shouldn’t be surprised. They were both bright. “The most risk will sit with Stiles and Lydia. There is a small chance that you could both get stuck inside your head and that would likely kill both of you.” He said honestly. “But with all of us there, I don’t foresee that being an issue. I understand you’re worried Stiles, but this is serious. With time your nightmares will start manifesting themselves more often and if you die in your dream, it will be the same for reality until the door is closed.”

Stiles tensed again almost immediately when Deaton admitted that there was a risk to Lydia’s life. “Then we’ll find another way,” he said firmly. “There has to be another way that doesn’t involve Lydia’s life being on the line. What else does your book say?”

Deaton sighed, “Stiles it doesn’t work that way. Lydia is involved because she was your anchor in the last ritual. It has to be her. She’s the only one capable of coming into your dreams because she is the person that tethered you here the first time.” He explained needing both Stiles and Scott to understand.

Scott shifted on his feet, “So even if we tried with someone else it wouldn’t work.”

Deaton nodded, “Correct. Lydia has already proved the two of you have a connection by showing up in your dreams. She’s already almost there; her consciousness just needs a push in the right direction. But you need to stay alive until the full moon.”

Stiles sighed, raking a hand through his hair, frustrated. He didn’t like this plan at all, and it wasn’t because he didn’t trust Lydia or he was scared to have her in his head. It was because he didn’t want to be the reason she was in danger of any kind -- ever. But he knew just because Scott knew the solution, Lydia was going to be involved. Even if Stiles didn’t tell her, Scott certainly would. And she was a good person, so of course she wouldn’t hesitate. The same way she hadn’t hesitated to tackle him and Scott out of the way of an explosion of fire one night not all that long ago, saving both their lives.

“So then I just need to stay awake until the full moon.” He was now staring at the floor, lost in thought.

Scott’s brows drew together. “You slept okay last night,” he said suddenly. “I mean after what happened. When Allison and Lydia came over and we put the movie on you fell asleep almost right away,” he admitted. “Then Lydia and Allison. I fell asleep last. But you seemed to be sleeping okay...did you have any nightmares?”

His eyebrows furrowed at that, glancing over at his best friend. “No. I don’t think I dreamt at all actually.” Which was a first since the sacrificial ritual. He chewed his lower lip. “So, what then? I don’t know how happy my dad’s gonna be about nightly sleepovers for the next week.”

Scott shrugged, “We’ll work it out. At least we know what you’ve gotta do until the full moon.” He said. He knew Stiles wasn’t happy, but all Scott cared about was making sure his friend made it through this.

Deaton’s voice broke the silence in the room. “I’ll make sure I have everything ready by the full moon. All I need you to do is bring your pack.” he said as his gaze drifted to Scott.

Stiles shifted his gaze to Deaton and sighed. It looked like there wasn’t going to be a choice in the matter. No matter how hard he protested or what he did, he was going to be overruled. Hell, he couldn’t even be upset with them because if Scott was in his position, he’d do and say the same damn things. “I guess we should get to school.” His dad had said he was going to check in and he knew his father well enough to know that he really would.

Scott could tell Stiles wasn’t happy so he just nodded and decided to go with it. “Thanks Deaton, I’ll see you later at work,” he said moving over to Stiles and placing a hand on his friends shoulder before leading him out of the back to the main room. “Just think in a week this could all be over.” He told his friend trying to look at the bright side.

He nodded a little, glancing at Scott sideways and wishing he had his friend’s sense of optimism. Mostly he just wanted the week to be over and Lydia to still be alive and safe.

______

 

Isaac reached for out and snagged a chip from Allison’s plate as he sat sideways on the bench beside her. “So, run this by me again, you and Lydia spent the night at Stiles’ house because she had a nightmare about him?” He asked confused. Isaac had stayed at Scott’s house last night, had dinner with Mrs. McCall and then hung around to make sure things were okay while Scott was with Stiles.

He had filled Scott’s Mom in about what was going on or as much as Scott had told him to tell her. Isaac popped the chip into his mouth and chewed as he watched Allison.

“It was...a little more intense than that,” she told him quietly, pushing the chips toward him as she picked up her hamburger. “I mean, she didn’t just have a nightmare. She was actually in Stiles’ dream.” She took a bite of her sandwich, chewed and swallowed. “According to Scott, Deaton says it’s because she was his anchor in that ritual we did.” The one that they avoided talking about as much as possible.

Isaac watched Allison eating her burger for a minute before reaching into the bag of chips again. “That didn’t happen with us. And I don’t think it happened with Scott and Deaton,” he said trying to make Allison smile, but with no luck. “Why is it happening to them?” He asked wondering what they’d done differently from everyone else.

“I honestly don’t know.” She really had no idea, but she kind of wanted to talk to her dad about all of it and see if he had any theories. But she hadn’t told her dad about the ritual they’d all done to save their parents, and it wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have with him. “Maybe because of Lydia’s abilities?” Her voice was uncertain. “I don’t really understand why the door in Stiles’ mind didn’t close when the door in mine and the door in Scott’s did.”

Isaac wasn’t really Stiles biggest fan, but that was mostly because he was always snapping at him about something. But he knew how close Stiles and Scott were so if his help was needed, he’d help. “I don’t know either. But if Deaton found a way to fix things I say we do it. Then we can all put this behind us,” and maybe he’d finally be able to ask Allison out on a date...if Scott didn’t kill him first. The thought was probably a selfish one, but Isaac just wanted things to be okay with everyone. He was finally starting to feel like he belonged somewhere just when things were getting torn apart again. “Is Stiles on board?”

She hesitated, glancing at him. “He’s resistant, but reluctantly on board because it’s pretty much the only choice.” She looked troubled, and set her burger down on her plate once more. She knew that Isaac and Stiles didn’t necessarily like each other, but she also knew them both well enough to know that if one of them was in trouble, the other one was going to do whatever they could to help out. She’d seen them in action. They were like distant family members who didn’t get along, but who pulled through for each other in the end.

“What is it?” he asked softly drawing her attention to him. Isaac didn’t like seeing Allison upset and he was starting to realize he would do just about anything to keep her from being upset, which didn’t bode well for him in the long run.

“There’s another ritual, and it’s...going to involve all of us. But especially Stiles and Lydia. I’m not completely clear on all the details, but apparently she has to literally go into his mind and help him close the door.” She turned so she was facing him better.

Isaac shifted closer to her and frowned. “That’s how she’s going to help him? By going inside his head? How does something like that even work? And what happens if they get stuck in his mind?” Isaac didn’t want to go into the whole thing with a negative mindset, but he wanted to make sure they asked all the hard questions.

“That’s the catch, apparently. Deaton says the chance of that happening is pretty slim, especially if the rest of us are there to help ground them back to reality, but that’s why he’s hesitating. I’m pretty sure he’s managed to dodge Lydia all day so far.” She looked across the cafeteria where Lydia was talking to Danny.

Isaac followed her gaze, “She seems sufficiently distracted.” He commented. “Does she know about what happened today? What Deaton said?” He asked as he ate another chip. Isaac wasn’t sure what was going on with Stiles and Lydia, but if he had to guess he’d say it was some kind of weird mating ritual where neither one of them wanted to admit how they felt about the other. Basically the story of his life with Allison.

Allison nodded, grateful for her friend’s current distraction, though she hoped Danny wasn’t filling her in on any of Jackson’s recent hijinks in London. The last thing Lydia needed was to be drawn back into that kind of drama. Besides, they had enough drama all on their own without help from a werewolf in another country who’d abandoned Lydia without a second thought. “I don’t think so. I haven’t filled her in and she and Scott don’t have a class together until this afternoon.”

“Stiles should be the one to tell her...she seems a little on edge lately,” he observed before glancing back at Allison. “I was thinking of stopping by today after school...and then I thought I about the electrified windows,” he said catching her gaze. “Those still up?” He asked noticing the slight smile on her face.

“Yeah, she does,” Allison agreed, glancing at him sideways and unable to keep a tiny smile from touching her mouth. “They are, but I could probably be persuaded to bypass the system temporarily.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Isaac ate another chip his eyes drawn to movement across the quad. He spotted Scott and Stiles and arched an eyebrow. “Maybe he’s going to fill her in now.” But when he saw them head in the opposite direction of where Lydia was he shook his head. “Guess not.” he said as he held out a chip to her.

Feeling particularly bold, Allison leaned forward and ate the offered chip right from his hand, smirking a little and looking down at her plate. The ritual had certainly done something to them, in a different way than it had done something to Stiles and Lydia, or Deaton and Scott. She supposed it made sense considering it had affected all three of them in very different ways, as well.

Isaac’s eyes were wide and he swallowed hard. “Good chip?” he asked as he snapped himself out of his stupor and grabbed another bringing it to his mouth this time. He knew the ritual had changed them, brought them closer, and Isaac was glad. He’d never had someone like Allison in his life and knowing she was there made him adjust a little better to the things around him.

She smiled, ducking her head and closing her eyes as she suppressed the urge to giggle. Allison Argent was a badass hunter. She did not do things like giggle. Except she found that the more time she spent with Isaac, the more she wanted to do just that. She was like a little school girl with a crush. “Yeah. It was.”

Isaac grinned at her response and scratched the back of his neck. “Good.” He said simply as he shifted his hand near the bench lightly brushing it against hers. “It’s going to be time to head back to class soon...I could walk you.” He offered his tone casual.

“Are you gonna carry my books for me?” she teased, looking down at their hands and letting her index finger brush over his.

Isaac smirked, “I could, after holding up a crumbling root cellar, it’s not like they’re heavy.” He said cocking his head to the side, the feel of her finger brushing against his making his heart flutter. Flutter. Whose heart did that? Apparently his, weird. “But if people saw me carrying your books they’d probably think something was going on here.” Isaac was quiet for a minute and then leaned in just a bit. “Is something going on here?” he asked softly.

Allison gazed back at him for a moment, not quite sure how to answer his question. “I think that...something’s been going on here for awhile now. I’m just not sure what to call it. Or how to define it.” Her voice was quiet, and honest.

“I think you’re right.” Isaac agreed. “Maybe after we help Stiles, we can talk about it. You know, the thing that’s going on but is undefinable.” He said glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “And how we’re going to handle it around...people.” Meaning Scott of course. Just the thought of it reminded him of how happy Scott wasn’t when he found out that Isaac wanted to kiss Allison. But he was pretty sure Scott would soon be preoccupied with other things.

She knew exactly who he meant, of course. Sometimes it was like they didn’t even really need to speak. She wondered if that was part of the post-ritual side effects. She wondered if that happened with Lydia and Stiles, too, or if it was unique to her and Isaac. “I think that’s probably a good idea. But in the meantime...why don’t you walk me to class and for now...I’ll carry my own books.”

A slow smile spread across Isaac’s face. “I think that’s a fair compromise.” He said while lifting his leg over the bench and standing. He watched Alison for a minute before holding out a hand to her, not sure she’d take it, but hoping maybe that wouldn’t be too much of a step for the moment. He’d be slightly disappointed if it was, but he’d respect it. Isaac had never met anyone like Allison before and he’d wait for her as long as it took.

Allison looked at his hand for a moment, smiled a tiny smile, then slid her hand into his, letting him help her to her feet. She didn’t know what this thing was that was happening between them, but she did want to find out. She just hoped that no one would get hurt because of it.

______

 

It had been a very long, nerve wracking kind of day. He’d spent most of it dodging his friends, with an emphasis on dodging Lydia. He’d had three close calls already -- one with Scott in gym, but Stiles had faked a stomach ache and gone to the nurse’s office to lie down for the hour; one with Allison in the hallway earlier, and one with Lydia in economics. But he’d managed to avoid any uncomfortable conversations regarding rituals, or dying, and he was counting that as a win for the day. He was pretty sure there wouldn’t be many days ahead where those things were avoided easily.

He was mentally congratulating himself on an avoidance job well done when he rounded the corner to head for the exit when he literally came face to face with the strawberry blonde.

And she didn’t look very happy to see him. Probably because he’d been avoiding her all day. His shoulders slumped a little and he tried for a sheepish grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Give you a ride home?”

Lydia gave Stiles a once over before locking her gaze on his and arching an eyebrow. She crossed her arms over her chest which shifted her bag on her shoulder. “Oh, you mean you plan on being in the same space with me long enough to give me a ride?” She asked the note of sarcasm in her voice coming across clear.

He winced at her accusing tone and sighed, looking down. “Okay that’s fair.”

“Oh is it?” Lydia asked before taking a step toward Stiles. “I have been looking for you all day. I was worried.” She said pointedly, “And when I asked Scott what was going on he fumbled around awkwardly with his words for about a minute before telling me I should talk to you.” Lydia said punctuating her words with a poke to Stiles’ chest.

“But of course you’ve suddenly decided to play ditch the Banshee.” Lydia huffed. “What is going on Stiles?” The only reason she was so frustrated was because she was worried about him. Stiles almost died last night and that was not okay with Lydia.

“I’m sorry,” he said honestly, looking up at her once more. “Okay? I really am. I just -- I wanted everyone to have one semi-normal day without some kind of mystical drama, you know?” He reached up, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t trying to ditch you, Lydia. At least...not you specifically. I was avoiding everyone.”

“I’m not everyone.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and once they were said Lydia couldn’t take them back. She swallowed hard and looked away from Stiles briefly. When Lydia’s gaze was on his again her voice was calmer, “What I mean is I’m connected to this too. Don’t shut me out. I want to help.” She needed to help. “What did Deaton say?”

His chest tightened at her words, because she was right. She wasn’t everyone. “No. No, you’re not,” he said very softly, his voice barely audible as he looked away, too. “Deaton says...the only way that I can shut this door is by doing another ritual.” His anxiety kicked up a notch immediately. “And you all have to be involved for it to work.”

“God, what is with Druids and their rituals?” Lydia groaned mostly to herself. “Please tell me we’re not letting you die again because holding you in a bathtub full of ice water, not my proudest moment.” She said trying to lighten the situation a bit with her comment. By the look on Stiles’ face he could use it.

A faint smile tugged at his lips involuntarily, one corner of his mouth turning just slightly upwards. “Druids and rituals are like werewolves and the full moon. Practically woven together in the fabric of time.” He exhaled. “How about I fill you in while I drive you home?”

Lydia pursed her lips together. “I guess I can use a ride,” she said before tilting her head toward the parking lot. “Well, walk and talk,” she said finally as she starting moving in the direction of Stiles’ jeep not sure why her heart was beating so fast. “The ritual,” she prompted.

He sighed inwardly, pulling his keys out of his jeans pocket and unlocking the jeep, opening the passenger side door for her without a second thought. “It involves you going into my dreams to help me shut the door, and apparently we have to draw on the strength of the pack to do it.” He slid into the driver’s seat, just sitting there a moment, looking out the windshield. “It could be dangerous.”

“So?” Lydia rested her bag on her lap and turned her body to face Stiles not putting her seatbelt on just yet. “Stiles, this is good news why do you look so morose?” She asked with a shake of her head. “There’s a way for us to fix this, to close the door and make you better. Why aren’t you more happy?” The danger didn’t bother Lydia. They had all been through a lot over the past two years and she’d see more than her fair share of dangerous situations, but at least Stiles would be okay.

“Because I don’t want people that I lo -- people that I care about to be in danger, Lydia. Not you, and not Scott, or Allison or...even Isaac.” He blew out a breath, reluctantly starting the jeep, mostly so he had something to do with his hands besides gesture out of anxiety.

Lydia watched Stiles as he backed out of the spot. “Stiles how many times do I have to tell you we all care about you. We would risk our lives for you the same way you do for us all the time.” She paused, “We need you.” Lydia said quietly, “Accept that and let us help.” She didn’t want to see anything happen to him, well, anything more than what had already happened.

He chewed his lower lip for a moment before glancing over at her. “I don’t really have a choice,” he admitted. “I wanted to look at other options, but Deaton said this was pretty much it. It has to be done on the next full moon which...is in a week from today. Hope you don’t have big plans,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Lydia frowned, “Why would you look for a different way if I’m willing? Don’t you trust me to help?” She asked trying not to let the hurt show. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want her help, the thought made her chest tighten.

Stiles blinked at that, caught off guard by her words. “What? Of course I trust you, Lydia. God. Come on. You know me better than that.”

“Well then stop being an oaf,” Lydia once again crossed her arms and looked away from him. “You’re scared, we all are. But we’re scared of losing you, don’t you understand that?” She asked glancing back over at him as he continued driving. “You’re always there for me Stiles,” her voice grew soft as it tended to do when she was talking about anything real.

“You always believe in me and trust my instincts. Trust me now when I say we’ll get through this.”

He held his breath as she spoke again. It was still somewhat difficult for him to imagine anyone other than Scott really caring whether he lived or died, but he knew that was his own insecurities messing with him. He hesitated for a second and held his hand out to her wordlessly, unsure if she’d take it or not.

Lydia glanced down and she didn’t even think before reaching out and threading her fingers through his. “You aren’t alone.” She told him quietly. “And if you shut me out again I’m going to use that bat you love so much on you. Got it?” She said casually.

Stiles blanched because somehow he had a feeling she really meant that. “Got it,” he said swallowing hard and squeezing her hand.

“Good,” She smiled and relaxed back in her seat convinced that Stiles was properly chastised. “We should probably stop for a burger on the way back to my place...I might have skipped the actual lunch portion of lunch.” She suggested not ready to see him go just yet.

At that, he frowned. “Lydia, you shouldn’t do that. It isn’t healthy.” But he wasn’t about to protest stopping to get something to eat with her.

“Says the guy not sleeping and avoiding me so I can’t help him with his mystical dreaming problem. Missing one lunch isn’t going to kill me” Lydia quipped turning his words back around on him. “And if you’re so worried about my diet than maybe you should feed me.” She suggested while giving his hand a light squeeze that contradicted her harsh words.

She certainly knew how to drive a point home. He glanced at her sideways, arching his eyebrows. He was kind of surprised she was still holding his hand. He’d come to realize that Lydia was almost as much of a tactile person as he was, though. He wasn’t going to overthink it. “Hey, if the lady wants a burger, a burger she shall have.”

Lydia tried to hide her smile, but it was no use. It seemed that Stiles always brought that side out of her. If he wasn’t making her smile then he was soothing her fears in some way or another and Lydia appreciated that she just wasn’t sure how to say it, though she guessed that was something she could worry about another day.

______

 

Scott hadn’t told anyone else that Derek was back in town yet. There was just too much going on. And since the conversation he intended to have with the older werewolf was kind of an intense one, and incredibly important, he decided the best way was to meet with him in person. He didn’t want to try and explain everything by text message because it would take forever, and because he didn’t think that having any kind of documented evidence was a great idea.

Sometimes Scott thought ahead.

He made his way to Derek’s loft after school, watching as Stiles and Lydia headed off somewhere together and knowing that as long as his best friend was awake, he was probably okay. If anyone could make sure Stiles stayed conscious, it was Lydia Martin. He walked up the stairs to Derek’s loft, knocking on the door and waiting for him to answer.

Derek sat in a chair beside the only table in his apartment and glanced up when he heard a sharp knock sound on his door. He closed the book he’d been reading with one hand and placed it on the flat surface of the table before standing and walking over to the door. He paused, tilting his head to the side and taking a deep breath stretching his senses out surprised when he realized who was on the other side of the door.

Derek unlatched the lock and slid the large door open coming face-to-face with Scott. He hadn’t seen the younger werewolf since their face-off with Deucalion and Jennifer. His lip twitched at the corner and he stepped aside. “Scott,” he said his voice gruff, “It’s good to see you.” He said realizing he actually meant the words. Derek and Scott hadn’t always gotten along, but Derek always respected Scott and he was hoping now that he was back things could be different than they were before.

Scott smiled at him, at the fact that Derek almost cracked a smile. “Hey. Good to see you, too. How was your trip?” he asked, stepping inside and glancing around. He noticed that there were curtains hanging up and he cocked his head, wondering if that was a sign that Derek was actually settling in and planning to stick around. He hoped so. They hadn’t always gotten along, but they’d both done a lot of growing up in the last few months and he was hoping that things would be different. That they would be better.

Derek tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips. “Enlightening,” he said with a sigh, “Peter decided to tag along and Cora, well Cora needed to find her own path.” He explained as he closed the door behind Scott and then slipped his hands into his pockets. “You text me a few times, sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner, I was a little tied up.” he said letting his voice trail off as he scratched his eyebrow, “Is something wrong?” It wasn’t often that Scott text him and the fact that it had been multiple times implied a sense of urgency.

“Yeah, but we sorta figured out the thing I was texting you about. But uh, now there’s something else going on.” He sighed. Because something else was always going on. It just happened that this time had him more worried than usual. “It’s Stiles. He’s in trouble.”

Derek arched an eyebrow, “Stiles?” He inquired not able to push aside his curiosity. “What’s he gotten himself into this time?” Because it was always something, though Derek couldn’t really be too judgmental, the kid had saved his life on more than one occasion he begrudgingly admitted to himself.

Scott blew out a breath, moving to sit down on the couch. “It’s sorta...more what’s leftover from the ritual we did awhile back,” he said quietly. “Remember Deaton telling us there’d be a darkness around our heart or whatever? Well, apparently there was also an open door in each of our minds. One that leads to some pretty terrible nightmares and hallucinations and other things that...aren’t really good. Allison and I got ours closed somehow, but Stiles…”

Derek frowned. He remembered Scott mentioning the ritual that they’d done to keep their parents alive while still powering the Nemeton. “I didn’t realize the after effects of the ritual would last this long,” he said while shifting on his feet. Communicating with people in a fairly civilized and open manner was new to Derek and he wasn’t exactly sure how to do it correctly. “So Stiles is what, sick? And you need help finding a way to fix him?” He asked figuring that probably wouldn’t be too difficult.

“We’ve already figured out the how. But…” Scott looked up at him. “Deaton says it’s going to take the whole pack. Lydia has to literally go inside Stiles’ head, into his dream and help him shut the door. And they need all of us to like, ground them and give them our strength basically.” He just hoped that talking Derek into helping out wasn’t going to be difficult.

“Lydia,” he asked, the monosyllabic tone of his voice echoing through the empty apartment. “Not you?” He asked wondering why the newest member of their little supernatural club was taking one for the team so to speak, instead of Scott. He knew how close the two boys were.

“She was his anchor in the first ritual. And uh.” He really didn’t want to think about what had nearly happened just the previous night. “She pretty much saved his life last night by actually entering his dream. Somehow.”

Derek lifted his arms and crossed them across his chest. “Her powers are growing.” He stated calmly. He was quiet for a minute before studying Scott closely. Derek could see how worried he was, the fear inside of him. It wasn’t often that he actually went out of his way to help people for no reason at all. But maybe that was the problem.

Maybe always expecting something in return for being helpful wasn’t the right move. Maybe for once he’d offer some help and see where that got him. Derek cleared his throat his expression as open as he could possibly make it. “What do you need me to do?”

Scott relaxed a little at Derek’s words, offering him a small smile. “The ritual has to be done on the full moon. And it has to be this one coming up because I’m not sure how much more he can handle.” He didn’t really want to think about that at all. “So if you’re not busy on the full moon, we’ll be at Deaton’s.”

Derek’s brows pulled together. “You’re looking to get all of us together on a full moon?” He asked not giving Scott a chance to answer, “That’s a lot of power for one ritual...Deaton said it was safe?” He wasn’t necessarily worried about himself. After the past six months he’d been beat up and tortured enough to make his body used to it, but to require all that power the ritual itself must be a powerful one and there always had to be some kind of balance. Derek had learned that the hard way.

“He said it was mostly safe. That it was going to be the most dangerous for Stiles and Lydia. I guess because she’s going into his mind.” Scott looked down at the floor, troubled. “There isn’t a choice, Derek. It’s either this or Stiles dies. I can’t let him die.” He wouldn’t let him die. That’s all there was to it. Stiles was his best friend, his brother, since they were five years old. They’d been inseparable. There was basically nothing that Stiles didn’t know about him and vice versa. Seeing him almost die last night had been bad enough.

Derek could practically feel the pain coming off of Scott and he reached out his large hand and awkwardly pat Scott on the shoulder. “No need to get dramatic. I said I’d help. But after this you tell Stiles we’re even,” he said pointedly, “No more holding saving my life over my head, got it?” He asked with the barest hint of a smile on his face.

He glanced up at Derek, surprised when the older werewolf patted his shoulder. “He’s been holding that over your head?” he asked before he realized that the guy was actually smiling. He blinked, surprised, because it wasn’t like Derek was known for his smile. Actually he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Derek smile in a way that wasn’t more of a smirk than a smile. Holy crap. “Right. You were kidding. Got it.”

“It’s a new thing I’m trying out.” Derek commented. “The joking. Not the touching. I just didn’t want you to cry or something. That’s a little too emotional for me.” He told Scott as he stepped back. “And as a matter-of-fact every time I am less than nice to Stiles, he mentions how he could have let me die...twice.” Derek’s eyes rolled to the ceiling. “He has the longest memory of anyone I’ve ever had the displeasure of befriending...well you know what I mean.” He said.

Scott grinned as he rose to his feet. “Yeah. Yeah, he does.” He still hadn’t lived down the time he’d seen a spider on the ceiling and he’d screamed like a little girl rather than a newly turned werewolf. He kinda hoped he never did. “On the plus side, he saved your life twice.” He patted Derek’s shoulder.

Derek side eyed Scott's hand on his shoulder, but said nothing. “There’s that. So I guess I owe him twice.” he said with a shrug. “Just let me know where I have to meet you and I will be there.”

“Thanks, man,” Scott said sincerely. He needed to get going so he could take dinner to his mom at the hospital and figure out who was staying the night with Stiles that night. “For the record? It’s good to have you back.”

Derek’s body relaxed just a bit and he let a genuine half smile slip, “I didn’t think it would be, but it’s good to be back.” He started walking toward the door to his apartment and pulled it back open. He could sense Scott needed to head out, but he was glad he’d come to him. Maybe this time things really would be different.


	5. Chapter 5

Lydia stared at the open book in front of her, eyes roaming over the endless sea of words on each page. Her finger curled around the edge of the page and she sighed. She couldn’t focus. How was she supposed to study for a stupid Biology test when so much was going on. It had been two days since Stiles and Scott spoke to Deaton and Lydia hated to say it but Stiles wasn’t looking great.

Scott had stayed with him the past two nights and while there hadn’t been any more physical manifestations of Stiles’ dreams, there were nightmares. She had offered to spend the night last night, but Stiles told her it wasn’t necessary he’d be fine. That was his answer to everything lately and it was really starting to grate on her nerves.

Lydia was all for being brave and noble or whatever Stiles thought he was doing, but she cared about him and she wanted to help. Lydia let out a long breath and turned the page with a flutter trying to focus on the next page covered in words. She was so involved in actually trying to focus that she didn’t hear footsteps as someone walked up behind her.  
“Hey, Beautiful.” Aidan dropped down onto the bench beside her, smiling at her. He looked all too pleased with himself, all too casual and expectant.

Lydia arched an eyebrow sending Aidan a sideways glance, “Stopping by just too state facts?” She asked as her gaze drifted back to her book, ignoring his eyes that were clearly on her.

His grin brightened just a little. “Well, I hadn’t seen you for awhile, so I saw you sitting here by yourself and thought I’d say hello.”

“Not interested,” Lydia tossed out casually not even bothering to look over this time. “Go say hello to someone else, can’t you see I’m busy?” She asked though she didn’t expect an answer. After everything that had happened Aidan was one of the last people she wanted to see.

“Kinda harsh there, Lydia.” Now he frowned, leaning against the table as he watched her. He didn’t understand what her problem was. They’d been pretty friendly not all that long ago.

His words finally made Lydia turn in his direction. “Kind of harsh?” She asked while straightening up, “Harsher what you and your brother helped Cali make Derek do to Boyd?” Lydia inquired, “Because I’m thinking not really.” One of the last times she’d seen him it was true she’d dragged him into Coach's office for a little heavy petting, but that was for Stiles and Scott. They’d asked her to distract him and she did.

And sure, they helped save her life when Jennifer attacked her and she’d felt bad after what happened and kept in touch with them the past few weeks. But Lydia wasn’t in the mood for small talk especially after how far Aidan went last week in trying to help Scott.

“That’s hardly a fair assessment. It wasn’t like we had a lot of choice.” Now he sounded just the slightest bit offended. “Deucalion would have killed us if we hadn’t done what we did. If Cali hadn’t done it first.”

Lydia studied him for a minute before sighing. “We all made our choices I suppose,” she said as she closed her book and sent Aidan an exasperated look. “What do you want?” Lydia asked keeping her tone light.

Aidan shrugged, looking down at the table for a minute, then back up at her. “I think we’re re-enrolling. Ethan wants to.” For Danny, of course. Something about wanting to have a semi-normal life even though they’d been out of high school for a couple years now. Aidan couldn’t care less about having a semi-normal life. He was in this to try and win Scott’s favor. Omegas didn’t tend to fare well in the world, and he was all about his own survival.

Lydia arched an eyebrow, “So, you thought you’d seek me out and see if I wanted to spend my lunch period in the Coach’s office?” She asked watching him with a calculated look.

His lips tugged upwards just a bit as he arched his eyebrows. “It would be a lot more fun than reading about biology. More hands on.” He reached out, tracing a finger lightly over her arm.

Lydia didn’t pull her arm away and she held his gaze as she leaned into him. “I’m not interested,” she said softly. Aidan was just as attractive as always, but he wasn’t the type of person she wanted to be with. He never was, but she’d been hurt when Jackson left and she hadn’t been ready to admit that there was someone else who she cared about someone...unexpected. So, she had done what she always did. Random hot guys because they couldn’t hurt her.

Aidan paused, staring at her for a long moment before pulling his hand away from her arm somewhat reluctantly. “You were pretty interested before,” he said, almost sounding hurt. Neither of them noticed that Stiles and Scott had emerged from the lunch line with their trays, or that Stiles had stopped walking when he spotted them there together.

Lydia heard what she thought was hurt in his voice and she felt the stirrings of guilt for being so mean. But that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want him, not like that anyway. “Not anymore.” Lydia paused, “Everyone deserves a second chance so if you’re looking to make up for what you did then maybe...we can friends.” She offered.

He was silent for a moment, like he was considering her words even though he didn’t really feel guilty over what he’d had to do. If it came down to it, he’d always choose his own life, or his brother’s life, over anyone else. But he knew that wasn’t the way to get into Scott’s pack, and Lydia was part of that pack. So he smiled faintly, nodding. “Yeah. I’d like that.” He gave her arm a light squeeze before rising to his feet. “I’ll let you get back to studying.”

Lydia watched him go before turning back to her book, but any drive she had to study at the moment was gone. She reached over and dug into her purse until she pulled out a small compact. She opened it and glanced in the mirror brushing some of the makeup away from her eyes as she waited for everyone else to get there.

______

 

Scott stopped walking when he realized Stiles was a few feet behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow, “What’s wrong? Why’d you stop? I thought you were as hungry as me.” He said with a short laugh.

Stiles had been practically starving all morning, had drank three cups of coffee though it was definitely on his dad’s list of banned substances for Stiles, and while the caffeine had helped him focus more on his classes, it had also burned through the little amount of breakfast he’d managed to choke down before school. But the moment he stepped into the cafeteria and spotted Aidan -- Tweedle Dumb, he thought, annoyed -- talking to Lydia, tracing a finger over her arm as they talked -- all traces of his appetite vanished completely. Of course Aidan was back in the picture. Why wouldn’t he be?

He glanced sideways at his best friend, face drawn and tired. “I just lost my appetite,” he admitted tiredly, heading over, disposing of his lunch in the trash and setting the tray in the window before leaving the cafeteria. He really was a glutton for punishment.

Scott frowned, confused. He opened his mouth, but Stiles was already long gone. He glanced over at the bench where Lydia sat alone and he sighed. He knew he should probably go after Stiles, but he also knew his friend probably needed some time to himself. So, he’d eat his lunch fast and then go find Stiles and make sure he was okay...or at least as okay as he could be.

______

 

Stiles sank a little farther into his chair in English class, doing his best to suppress a yawn even as his tired eyelids drooped. He blinked a few times, tried to convince himself to sit up straighter and try to pay attention to what Mr. White was saying about Hamlet, but he’d read Hamlet in its entirety the night before, read all the discussion questions, read various thesis’ online about the play, and really, he didn’t need to hear anymore about it. After awhile, he gave in to the urge to let his eyes drift shut, laying his head on his desk without really thinking about it.

Just like that, he was in the middle of the woods, approaching the Nemeton. It was dark out, and lightning flashed across the sky, making him flinch involuntarily even as rain began to pound down on him. Everything about the dream felt familiar, real. Like he’d done this all before. It doesn’t even surprise him when one of the vines snakes out and grips his arm painfully tight, yanking him closer.

He could feel the power, the deadly and yet somehow life-giving power, of the tree even as he is dragged toward it, breathing shaky and frightened, mud staining his jeans and his shoes. He felt the vine digging into his skin, hard enough to draw blood, to leave a scar, probably and he felt his hand starting to go numb.

Help me, he thought, though he couldn’t form the words with his mouth.

Kira’s gaze was on her book as she followed along with Mr. White bored out of her mind. She’d read Hamlet at her old school already, taken the test, aced it and thrown away the book in hopes of never seeing it again. No such luck apparently. Kira was in the process of turning the page when she heard a soft whimper.

She blinked and straightened up in her seat glancing around the room. No one seemed to hear anything, they were all still looking forward, except Stiles. Her gaze came to rest on Scott’s best friend who sat diagonal from her and her brows drew together. Something seemed off about him.

Kira saw his body shiver, his hand jerking slightly and she opened her mouth to say something, but froze when she saw the gleaming red liquid sliding down from his shirt sleeve. Stiles twitched and that knocked Kira out of her state of shock. She reached out and gripped his arm giving him a sharp shake as she whispered furiously, “Wake up, Stiles, wake up.”

Stiles flinched, jerking his arm away from her instinctively as his eyes flew open. It took him a moment to realize that he was in class, not in the forest. Not at the Nemeton. Except his arm hurt like hell where the vine had dug into his skin and he stared at the blood, at the marks that were drawn there. His dreams were manifesting again. What had woken him from his dream? It hadn’t been Lydia this time.

He looked over to see Kira staring at him with wide, worried eyes and he quickly yanked his shirt sleeve down over the injury that had literally appeared from out of nowhere. His teeth chattered against his will as a cold chill swept over him, the color draining from his face.

Kira swallowed hard, “Oh god,” that discussion they’d been having the one about Bardo, it was real. It was happening. She shot up in her seat, standing abruptly and disrupting the class making everyone look at her. Kira’s cheeks warmed, but she spoke quickly, “I think Stiles is sick,” she motioned to his ashen face, “I’m going to help him get to the nurse’s office.”

Kira tugged her backpack over her shoulder and stepped around her desk pausing in front of Stiles not waiting for confirmation from the teacher. “Come on,” she leaned down and spoke quietly, “I’ll take you to Scott.”

He looked at her in confusion for a moment before rising to his feet, grabbing his books and his book bag and following her out the door without a glance at Mr. White or the rest of the class, who were now talking in hushed whispers. He was sick, all right. Except going to the nurse’s office or even to Scott probably wasn’t going to do much good. He appreciated the thought, though.

“Thanks,” he mumbled as they made their way into the hallway. She’d seen his arm. She had to have. It was why she was so freaked out. He didn’t blame her for that. He was pretty freaked out, too.

Kira hesitated as they walked, “It’s Bardo...isn’t it. Something is different about you guys. You, Scott, your friends. This is actually happening isn’t it?” She asked quietly as they got to the corner of the hallway and turned. She was pretty sure Scott had a free period this period, it wasn’t like she’d memorized his schedule or anything Kira was just observant.

He raked a hand through his hair, looking every bit as uneasy as he felt. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Kira. He knew Scott liked her for sure. And she seemed nice enough. But he didn’t know her well enough to confide in her about things like magic rituals or werewolves or the fact that he was at death’s door in more ways than one. “I don’t know.”

Kira studied Stiles for a minute as they walked before nodding. She understood if he didn’t trust her. She was a stranger. She certainly wouldn’t trust just anyone with her secret. Kira paused in front of the auditorium. “I think they’re having study hall in here today. Scott's got it this period right?” She asked as she shuffled her feet on the floor.

“Yeah. I think so. It’s sixth period, right?” His voice was shakier than he wanted it to be and he felt nauseous.

Kira nodded, “Yes, I’ll go get him for you. Just...just wait right here. You don’t look so good,” she said in a lower voice. “I’ll be right back with Scott.” She disappeared inside the door and stepped out into the auditorium. Kira glanced around until she spotted Scott in the lower half of the seats. She walked down and cleared her throat. “Scott?” She said his name softly waiting for him to turn in her direction.

Scott was leaning back in his seat, reading a copy of Wuthering Heights when he heard someone say his name. He glanced around uncertainly and then spotted Kira. His eyes lit up and he smiled at her. “Kira. Hi. What’s up?”

Kira couldn’t help the grin that pulled at her lips. “Hi, Scott. Not much,” she said before realizing why she was there, “Oh, no that’s not true. I have Stiles he’s in the hall and he’s...sick,” she said pinching her lips together. “I think it’s sort of strange, maybe you want to come with me to see him?” She asked tilting her head toward the doorway.

When she smiled at him, his own smile widened, an involuntary reaction. But then she mentioned Stiles being sick in the hallway and the smile faded from his face, worry replacing it. “Yeah. Yeah definitely.” He quickly rose to his feet, not bothering with his things and just leaving them where they lay. “What do you mean by strange, though?” he whispered as they headed for the door.

“Uh,” she fiddled with her the hem of her shirt as they walked to the door. “He fell asleep and, well, I think something happened to his arm.” She sent Scott a sideways glance, “It sort of just appeared?”

Scott’s eyes widened a little. His dream had manifested again. Dammit. That was not good. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she said as they finally stepped into the hallway. She paused a frown coloring her features when she didn’t see Stiles right away. But then she turned and spotted him leaning against the wall. She pointed. “See?”

Stiles felt like hell, and he imagined he didn’t look much better. But when he spotted Scott, he shrugged a shoulder and tried to force a smile. He doubted it fooled his best friend -- or Kira for that matter. “I’m okay,” he said preemptively.

Scott arched an eyebrow, “That’s funny because you don’t look okay. When’s the last time you actually slept?” He asked with a frown as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Kira watched the interaction silently, keeping to the side so she didn’t bother them.

“About ten minutes ago,” he said wryly, pretty sure that Kira had filled him in on that much.

Scott glared at his best friend, “You know what I mean. Actual sleep without going all mystically crazy in your dreams?” He asked his annoyance hiding the worry that was clear in his face. They still had another five days before the full moon and they needed to keep Stiles alive until then.

Stiles cut his eyes to Kira before looking back at Scott, unfazed by the glare. He’d long since grown immune to Scott’s glares. He pursed his lips, thinking back to the last time he’d slept nightmare-free. It had been the night they’d all spent at Stiles’ house, the night that he knew his dad was still wanting to talk to him about. He remained silent, knowing Scott would figure it out on his own sooner or later.

Scott scratched the back of his neck. “You need to get some sleep, maybe I should come over tonight,” he suggested letting his eyes wander to Kira momentarily and sending her a reassuring smile.

As much as he wished that would solve his problem, because it was way less embarrassing to ask his best friend to help him than it was to ask someone like Lydia Martin, Stiles knew that Scott’s presence wouldn’t ultimately be the thing that made him rest easy. After all, Scott had spent the night at his place the night before last and he’d had nightmares, and Allison had spent the night last night and he’d had nightmares. There was one person who had a shot at keeping his nightmares at bay, and from the way things had looked at lunch, she was going to be busy tied up with Tweedle-Dumb. “Yeah. Sure.”

Scott frowned at Stiles response. Even though he said yes there was something on his face that didn’t seem right. Scott turned to Kira and smiled. “I really appreciate you coming to get me so I could help Stiles. You should probably get back to class though,” he suggestion knowing he needed to talk to Stiles alone.

“But maybe, I can call you sometime, I mean you know if you don’t mind me...calling.” Scott sent her a sheepish smile. “Or giving me your number…” Scott let his voice trail off as he held Kira’s gaze.

She ducked her head, a blush spreading across her cheeks. She hadn’t expected for him to say that and she bit her lip, nodding. “Yeah, no. I wouldn’t mind.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Stiles couldn’t help but feel faint amusement as he looked between the two of them, resisting the urge to make a comment about how they should just get a room.

“Great,” Scott said enthusiastically. He pulled out his cell phone and handed it to her. “You can just put it in there and then I’ll use it. I mean I’ll call you. Well I guess technically that would mean using it.” He scratched the back of his head and glanced at Stiles. He saw the hint of amusement on his friends face and he rolled his eyes.

He barely suppressed a chuckle at the dopey grin on his best friend’s face. He had to admit that Kira was cute. And very sweet from the few times he’d talked to her. He could see it working between them, if Kira had an open mind when it came to her potential boyfriend having glowing red eyes and sprouting fur from his cheeks on occasion.

Kira programmed her number into Scott’s phone, still blushing as she handed it back. Then she looked at Stiles. “I hope everything’s okay.” She turned and headed back down the hall toward class.

Scott watched her go with a grin on his face turning back to Stiles once he could no longer see her. The smile immediately fell from his lips. “What aren’t you telling me?” He asked.

Stiles sighed, knowing there was no real sense in trying to hide things from his best friend the alpha werewolf. Wordlessly, he rolled up his sleeve to reveal his damaged forearm.

Scott’s brows lifted high and his chest tightened at the wound on his forearm. He reached out and gripped Stiles’ arm carefully to get a closer look. “This is bad.” He said quietly and sighed. Scott should have smelled the blood when he first saw Stiles, but he’d been preoccupied. “We need to talk to the others. Have you spoken to Lydia? The night she was at your place with us you didn’t have any nightmares did you?”

“Yeah.” He wasn’t going to disagree, because he was too tired to argue, or even pretend like things were okay. “I haven’t really seen her today.” He looked away. “Except for like two seconds at lunch where Twee--uh, Aidan was occupying her personal space.” No, Stiles wasn’t at all bitter about that.

Scott blinked and suddenly his quick exit earlier made a lot more sense. “You saw Aidan here at school?” He asked tilting his head to the side. “Did you ask Lydia what they were talking about?” Scott already knew the answer to this question obviously, but he wanted his friend to answer anyway.

Stiles gave him a sour look. “No, but considering he was basically all over her, I can take a pretty good guess, Scott.” He blew out a breath.

Scott shook his head, “You’re an idiot.” He said simply. “Let me ask you something Stiles, are you avoiding Lydia or is she avoiding you? Because I’m pretty sure she asked me where you were three times today and when I was at lunch and she saw you weren’t with me she looked disappointed.”

Scott sent his friend a knowing look, “Maybe I’m not the only hot chick,” he said with half a smile. “You shouldn’t be so quick to jump to conclusions.” He told his friend with a mock stern voice. Stiles was always making fun of how he handled things with girls and he was glad he could mock his friend for once.

“Hot girl,” Stiles corrected him. “Not the only hot girl. Not chick. That’s insulting and non-feminist. The correct term is ‘hot girl.’” He arched his eyebrows as he deflected Scott’s comments. His arm was throbbing painfully though the bleeding had stopped. His shirt was pretty much ruined, though and that sucked. It was one of his favorites. “I’ll talk to her after school.”

Scott nodded satisfied, “Good, now let’s go to the locker room and get you cleaned up. Maybe we should have the nurse look at that or Allison,” he suggested. After all she did perform surgery on him in a bathroom on the road and he survived. He was pretty sure she could patch up Stiles arm.

“It’ll be fine, dude. It’s not that deep.” And Stiles didn’t do needles even if it was. He started toward the locker room, sighing in resignation.

______

 

Lydia held her books to her chest as she walked down the hallway toward her locker. It was finally the end of the day and she couldn’t seem to decide if she was angry or worried about Stiles. She thought after the last time they spoke that he was going to stop avoiding her and yet she hadn’t seen him at all that day and even though she offered to stay with him the other night he’d had Scott stay instead. She sighed, Lydia had no clue why she even cared.

So what Stiles was avoiding her. So what he couldn’t be bothered to check in and tell her he was okay. It wasn’t like her day revolved around him. She had friends and homework...and things. She walked faster down the hallway, head held high.

Lydia turned the corner and paused mid step when she spotted Stiles leaning against her locker. She pursed her lips and moved forward coming to a stop beside him and reaching for her lock. “So, you finally decided to say hello?” She asked keeping her tone light. He didn’t look good and she hated that he was suffering and there was nothing she could do at the moment. But she wasn’t a pushover either and she worried about him. The least he could do was not avoid her.

Her tone was light, but he knew her well enough to know that she was at the very least, annoyed by his repeat avoidance performance. It wasn’t like he could blame her for that. He had to remind himself that they were friends and nothing more. They were never going to be more than that. Stiles just wasn’t her type, and he knew it. He sighed softly, not moving away from the locker beside hers, his head resting against it. “Yeah. About that.” There was guilt laced in his voice. “I’m sorry. I’m tired and my judgment isn’t exactly at its peak. Not that it’s an excuse for being a piece of crap friend.”

He glanced around the quickly dissipating crowd of students who were on their way home for the weekend, subconsciously keeping his eyes open for the alpha twins in case they were nearby. When he didn’t see any sign of them, he shifted his gaze back to her once more. “So I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Lydia sent him a sideways glance as she got her lock open and slipped her books inside. “It’s fine. You don’t owe me an explanation.” It wasn’t like they were more than friends even though sometimes it sort of felt like maybe--No, don’t go there Lydia thought. “How are you?” She asked as she shut the locker door and turned to face him.

“Yeah, Lyds, I do,” he said softly, pushing himself away from the locker and chewing on his lower lip for a moment before rolling up his shirt sleeve.

Lydia’s gaze dropped to his arm and she felt her throat close up at the sight of bandages there. She reached out and gripped his arm gently. “What happened?” She asked, her brows drawn together in worry. “You fell asleep in school?” her voice was soft as her eyes flickered up to his.

Stiles nodded slightly. “Yeah, in English class. Kira woke me.” And delivered him to Scott immediately. It was almost weird that she knew to do that, but he supposed that she’d been paying a lot of attention to Scott and he was with Scott a lot of time and Kira seemed like a smart girl.

Lydia’s brow shot up, “Is that so?” She said her lips pressing together, “Well then I guess it’s a good thing she was there.” Though Lydia almost felt like the new girl was around too much. Who listened to other people’s conversations and bringing up the whole Bardo thing, like Lydia didn’t already know what that was. The feel of Stiles’ eyes on her brought her out of her mental rant. “How bad was it this time?” She asked concern on her face.

He was silent for a moment, then he slowly unwound the bandage from around his forearm so she could see the extent of the damage. “Not near-death bad, but it wasn’t pleasant,” he admitted quietly. He blew out a breath. “So I uh...I was kind of wondering if maybe…” He hesitated. “If you weren’t busy tonight, if you might want to come and uh, keep me company.”

Lydia tried her hardest to keep her demeanor relaxed and calm, but when she saw his arm she felt an unfamiliar emotion gather in her chest and found her eyes burning slightly despite her attempt to keep her face neutral. She couldn’t let the tears come. Lydia knew she needed to be the strong one. Stiles needed her to be strong.

“I told you, you should have let me come last night and the night before.” The words left her mouth, but it wasn’t what she wanted to say. It was all she could manage at the moment especially in a hallway full of people. Well not really full, but they were there scattered around and heading home.

Stiles’ eyes were sad as he looked down at the floor. “You’re right,” he confessed. “I should have. But listening isn’t my greatest strength, apparently. You know me. I’m more of a talker. A babbler really.” He forced himself to take a deep breath. “You don’t have to. I mean, I understand if you’ve got other plans already,” he added, thinking of Aidan and trying not to let that bother him as much as it really did. “I can just ask Scott again. It’ll be fine. Not a big deal. I mean there’s only a few days left until the full moon anyway and then all this will be over and life will be back to normal. You know, as normal as it can be for us in Beacon Hills considering everything that’s here.”

Lydia swallowed hard, her chest tightening at his words. She hoped everything didn’t change. She liked how close they’d gotten. She felt like she could be herself around Stiles, like she didn’t have to hide the real her the way she did with everyone else. “What other plans?” She asked confused.

Her confused response actually caught him off guard and he fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t make him sound like he was a creepy stalker who’d seen her lunch date. “Uh, you know, anything. I mean it’s Friday night and this is last minute and you could have a date or plans to hang out with Allison or I don’t know, want to work on inventing a time machine -- “ Probably so she could go back and avoid meeting him in the first place, “-- or you know, washing your hair or uh, anything that involves any or all of the above things?”

Lydia arched an eyebrow at Stiles, “You’re acting stranger than usual today.” She commented. “Allison is doing something with Isaac tonight,” she said while lifting her purse higher up on her shoulder. “And I can’t remember the last time I had a date...hm something to look into.” She said to herself though the truth was she hadn’t exactly been in the dating mood lately. “Why did you invite me over if you don’t want me to come?” Lydia asked finally.

“It’s entirely possible that after my not so pleasant catnap in English, I downed a couple of extra Adderall so I didn’t risk falling asleep again,” he admitted. It always made him more hyper when he did so, but the risk vs. reward chart had been incredibly simple this time. The reward of not having to worry about waking up physically injured from a nightmare during school clearly won that battle. He swallowed hard at her mention of looking into a date. Awesome. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to come over, I’m just saying I get that it’s Friday night and you may already have plans.”

“I don’t,” Lydia said, “And if I did I’d cancel them because you’re more important.” She told him softly before glancing around the nearly empty hall. “I think we’re the only two people actually standing in school when we don’t have to be here,” she commented. “We should go.”

He felt his chest tighten at her words and he hesitated before reaching out lacing his fingers through hers. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to the gesture at this point, but he couldn’t resist the urge regardless of the possible outcome. “We could uh, stop by the grocery store and I could get some stuff to cook and fix dinner.”

Lydia wasn’t quite able to hide the surprise on her face, “You cook?” She said leaving her hand in his as she tugged him gently to the exit. She realized she probably shouldn’t be surprised. The Sheriff didn’t exactly seem like the type who went around cooking.

Despite everything else that was going on, Stiles couldn’t help but grin at the surprise in her voice and on her face. “Yeah, I do. What do you think? Will you trust my culinary skills for a night?”

“Of course,” She said without hesitation. “I always trust you.” Lydia said quietly before clearing her throat. “Is it just us tonight? Or is Scott coming over too?” It wasn’t that she would mind if he did, but she hadn’t spent much time with Stiles lately and it was possible she missed him...sort of.

He swallowed hard at that declaration, squeezing her hand just a little without really meaning to. “Yeah, just us. I think Scott probably needs the break. I mean, unless you want me to ask him to come over?” His voice was uncertain.

Lydia glanced sideways at Stiles. “No, let’s let Scott have the night off.” She said. “I have to stop at home and grab some clothes.” Lydia was going to need something to sleep in and clothes for tomorrow.

“Oh. Right, sure. Uh, you can bring Prada over if you want,” he offered. “Dad won’t mind. I mean, he’s working tonight, but he likes dogs.”

Lydia’s expression softened at the mention of Prada, “You wouldn’t mind?” she asked making sure, “I hate leaving her all by herself for long periods of time and my Mom isn’t going to be home tonight.” She explained, “She’s not a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t mind,” Stiles promised. “Prada’s a good dog.” Not that he had a lot of experience with dogs, but hey, Prada had never tried to bite him and that counted as a good dog in his book.

Lydia smiled, “She is. The best.” They were walking across the school parking lot getting closer to Stiles’ jeep by the minute. “Oh, and don’t think you’re off the hook for ignoring me that easily. We’re going to talk about it.” She said matter-of-factly.

He winced at that, hoping that the promise of a home-cooked meal and allowing her dog to come stay over was enough penance for that mistake. “Right. Got it.” He blew out a breath as he walked her to his jeep and unlocked the door, opening it for her.

Lydia squeezed Stiles hand one last time before releasing it to get in the jeep. He closed the door behind her and she watched as he walked around the car and got in. Lydia wasn’t entirely sure what was going on with Stiles outside of the obvious, but hopefully they’d both be able to get some rest that night because God knows he needed it and it wouldn’t kill her either.


	6. Chapter 6

A couple of hours later found them in the Stilinski kitchen as Stiles set about chopping onions and peppers, grilling chicken in a frying pan on the stove, and seasoning rice all simultaneously. Sometimes his ADD meant that he was really awesome at multi-tasking when it came to things like fixing dinner. They’d gone grocery shopping after stopping by her house to pick up her things and Prada, whom she’d carried in the store in her purse and not one single person dared to approach and tell her it wasn’t okay.

Stiles was not surprised in the least.

Grocery shopping was something he didn’t normally enjoy a whole lot, mostly because it was dull, but he found himself asking her a million questions as they walked around, mentally making a list of the foods she liked and the ones she wouldn’t touch and formulating their dinner menu for the night. That made it more interesting, because as much as he did know about Lydia, there was still a lot he didn’t know. There was apparently a lot they didn’t know about each other in general.

They’d known each other forever -- since pre-school, but it hadn’t been til the last couple of years that he’d really been in her line of sight, and normally it was for all the wrong reasons. Because something terrible was happening, usually. Kanimas and werewolves and brainwashing evil former alphas trying to come back from the dead. Finding dead bodies and trying to prevent other people from becoming dead bodies, and once in awhile, school.

Now, though, it was his possible impending death that was bringing them together, and that was sort of terrible, too. But he was determined to make the most of it, and making her an awesome dinner that she’d never forget was on the top of his current list of priorities. Prada lay curled on Lydia’s lap where she was sitting at the kitchen table and once he had a tiny piece of chicken cooked thoroughly, he fed it to the pup with a fond smile.

Lydia had to bite back a smile as she watched Stiles, “You’re going to spoil her,” she said though her voice didn’t sound the slightest bit angry as she ran her hand over Prada’s fur before rubbing the small dog behind the ears. The smell of onions and other vegetables filled the air as Stiles moved through the kitchen like a pro cooking dinner.

For some reason Lydia never pictured Stiles like this. She never pictured him having the kind of patience it took to sit around and make dinner. She was impressed. And not just because he was cooking. They had gone shopping earlier, something that believe it or not she did often due to the fact that her Mom was out of town a lot.

Stiles seemed more adult in this setting and she felt comfortable in his house and presence. It was a little unsettling for Lydia. She wasn’t used to feeling so comfortable around people, but Stiles was different. She tilted her head to the side, “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

He grinned innocently at her, arching his eyebrows. “Like you don’t?” he teased, moving back to the counter and working on chopping more vegetables, tossing them into the frying pan before putting the dirty dishes in the sink and running some dish water. “Yeah I’m sure. I’m good.” He felt himself relaxing a bit from the tension of the week even just hanging around with her and cooking dinner, hoping she wouldn’t mind a quick jaunt to the sheriff’s station after they ate so he could take some to his dad. “My dad doesn’t really cook much.”

Lydia looked up from Prada and continued watching Stiles as she spoke. “Neither does my Mother. She’s gone a lot and I guess cooking just sort of falls low on the priority list. She always leaves money for food, but every once in a while I’ll make something. It’s sort of silly though for just one person.” Lydia admitted as she lifted Prada off her lap carefully for a minute so she could cross her legs.

“Did he ever used to cook?” She asked curiously wondering if it had always been like this in the Stilinski household.

He was quiet for a moment, a kind of nostalgic sadness settling on him. “Yeah, my dad...he works a lot of late shifts so I usually just cook and take stuff to him. If there’s some kind of werewolf crisis going on, though, I’ll just grab some sandwiches and stuff from the store instead.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, wondering if her dad had ever cooked, or if her mom had before her parents divorced.

“Not really. Uh, my mom though. She loved to cook.” His chest tightened in the same familiar way it always did when he mentioned his mom. “She used to make these huge Sunday morning breakfasts because it was usually the only day my dad had guaranteed off before he became sheriff.” He chewed his lower lip for a moment, stirring the rice into the frying pan. “Do you like to cook?”

Lydia was silent for a minute, “When I need to relax I cook sometimes.” She admitted. “Before my parents got a divorce my Mom cooked all the time and she would let me help her if things weren’t too hot or with baking..” That was mostly true, but it actually changed before the divorce. When Lydia’s older sister died. Things between her parents got rocky after that and they started fighting all the time.

Her parents separated not long later and then divorced before the ink on the separation was even dry. “But now not so much.” Lydia tilted her head to the side. “Do you like it? You seem good at it. Is cooking a hidden talent you’ve been avoiding showing me?” She asked her tone suggesting she was teasing.

It took him a moment to decide whether or not she was deflecting instinctively or by choice. He was leaning toward instinct. He tended to do the same thing, only instead of changing the subject, he just tended to babble incessantly. A wry smile touched his mouth at her compliment. “I wouldn’t say I was avoiding showing you. It just...hadn’t really come up until now.”

Stiles stirred the vegetables and rice and chicken, glancing over at her once more. “I try to cook for my dad whenever I can. You know, to make sure he’s eating healthy.” He knew she’d understand because if there was anyone besides Scott who knew how terrified he was of losing his father, it was Lydia. She’d been there when he almost had. She’d seen his reaction. “Otherwise he’d be content to eat nothing but red meat and greasy food like, 24/7.”

Lydia smiled at that. She knew how much Stiles’ father meant to him. She’d seen first hand how hard it was for him when Jennifer took the Sheriff. “You’re lucky,” she said suddenly, her voice quiet. “Your dad is a really good guy.” There were a number of times he’d helped her out in the past all of which Stiles had been around for in some form or another.

Lydia realized her statement must have sounded odd so she shifted Prada on her lap, making the dog let out a small noise of disapproval as she clarified. “Not that my Dad isn’t. Both of my parents have been there when it mattered, but neither of them have been the same since the accident with my sister.” She said glancing down.

It wasn’t something Lydia talked about often or ever if she was being honest, but it was true. Her parents had been pretty much absent in her life since her 16-year-old sister died in a car crash. Sure they were there when she was in the hospital after Peter attacked her, and they were around when she ran from the hospital and at parent teacher conferences to keep up appearances. But it was the everyday stuff they missed.

Lydia didn’t even think it was intentional, they just sort of filled their days with work and bickering with each other. “I’m used to being on my own most of the time, I know you are too, but it’s not because your Dad doesn’t care.” She explained feeling exposed and wondering why she’d shared that with him. “The food smells delicious,” Lydia commented while running her hand down Prada’s back again gently ruffling her fur.

Stiles didn’t have to be told he was lucky. He was well aware of how lucky he was because she was right. At the end of the day, even if his dad wasn’t there, his dad loved him more than anything. Their relationship, while shaky the last couple of years and many times before that, was still the most solid relationship in his life, with the exception of his friendship with Scott. They were the two relationships that everything else in his life was based upon. Hell for years, he hadn’t even really made attempts at making other friends. He had Scott, his brother, and that was enough. His world had expanded a lot in the last few months.

But at the mention of her sister, Stiles grew still, looking over at her and holding his breath. He knew of course, that she’d had an older sister when they were growing up. She’d talked about her sister a couple of times in class and even back then Stiles paid attention to everything Lydia Martin. But he’d never heard her mention her sister or her sister’s accident since they’d grown up. Not once. He assumed it was because it was as difficult for her to talk about as it was for him to talk about his mom.

“My dad’s...never really been the same after my mom either,” he said softly. “I guess that’s just...what death does to people?” He looked down at the frying pan. “I mean, I guess it’s kind of normal.” He looked over at her again.

Lydia met his gaze and nodded. “I guess it is. If you love a person enough losing them can rattle your entire world.” She said the statement more clinical than emotional. “People think you get over that kind of loss, but really you just learn to live with it. After awhile I think that pain just becomes part of the person you are.” At least that’s what it had always felt like to her.

Lydia thought she’d be able to garner her parents attention and focus by being smart, doing well in school, excelling at making friends and being the best at everything she did. It hadn’t really worked that way, but after a while that just became who she was. But boys and even girls didn’t like people who were too smart, so even while she got straight ‘A’s in every class Lydia down played her smarts to most people because it wasn’t cool. That was a big part of her relationship with Jackson, constantly pretending not to know things so he could feel better about himself.

At the time, Lydia hadn’t minded. But now...well she was glad she wasn’t in that situation anymore because her priorities had definitely changed over the last few months. Prada wiggling in Lydia’s lap and she bent down and put her on the floor. Prada walked over to the corner where Lydia had put her small bed, got in and curled up. Lydia watched her with a small smile before her gaze returned to Stiles.

His mind leapt back in time for a brief moment, recalling the words he’d once said to her the first time she’d ever come to his house. That death didn’t happen to the person, it happened to everyone around them. And that if she died, he’d go out of his mind. He drew in a breath, thinking that for as true as it had been back then, it would be even worse now. If Lydia did die, he would not only lose his mind, he was pretty sure he’d have no desire to even be alive anymore.

He thought about what she said, that pain just eventually became a part of who you were. She was right, of course. The pain never really went away. He wondered if the loss of his mother, and the loss of Lydia’s sister, had somehow damaged them on such a basic level that it was why they both fought to keep people away. To keep them from getting too close. Because they didn’t want to experience that loss again.

Stiles finished stirring the ingredients in the frying pan before divvying it up into three portions -- a plate for Lydia, a plate for him, and a container of it to take to his dad at the station. He walked over and set her plate down in front of her, sitting down in the seat beside her instead of the one across from her. “Maybe we could make this a regular thing.” He hadn’t even realized what he’d said until he’d said it and then his cheeks colored and he looked down at his plate.

Lydia glance from the plate to Stiles. “Maybe we can,” she said casually, but she felt her heartbeat speed of a notch, something it didn’t often do. Well, not when there wasn’t something physical involved anyway. The past few months had made it clear to her that she was starting to see Stiles differently. And with what was going on now, Lydia was thinking maybe she was finally ready to admit there was some kind of connection between them, feelings that she didn’t mind as much as she thought she had.

She nodded toward the container. “Is that for your Dad?” She asked while lifting her fork and trying to figure out where to start.

He smiled a little, glancing up at her and nodding. “Yeah. I try to take him dinner anytime he works a late shift.” It was pretty rare that they actually ate a meal at home together, and once in a great while he’d eat dinner at the sheriff’s station with his dad, or with some of the deputies if his dad wasn’t around, and he’d put his dad’s leftovers in the fridge.

Stiles shoved a bite of stir fry in his mouth and waited to see if she liked it, too.

Lydia filled her fork and lifted it to her mouth. Surprise crossed her face once again as the flavor of the peppers and seasonings mixed in her mouth. It was a blend of spices whirling together in her mouth and it was delicious. She closed her eyes and chewed before swallowing and filling her fork again. “I’m impressed,” she said finally with a smile. “It’s really good Stiles, thank you.” She said softly. It was nice that he’d gone to the trouble to make her dinner.

At that, he grinned brightly for the first time in days.

______

Lydia made her way out of the bathroom her face washed, hair and teeth brushed, and her pajamas on. She glanced down at herself and bit her bottom lip. She’d chosen a pair of short cotton flannel pattern shorts and a white spaghetti strap top for bed figuring her regular nightgowns probably wouldn’t be the best for this little sleepover of hers. Lydia could still remember the time Stiles came over to her house after the Alpha attack in the video store and she’d had next to nothing on.

Talk about awkward, though at the time she hadn’t cared much. But that was because she hadn’t known Stiles yet. Not really. Lydia padded down the hallway barefoot until she reached Stiles’ bedroom. She paused in the doorway watching as he laid a blanket and pillow out on the floor. They had stopped by to bring his Dad dinner earlier only to find out he was on a call so they’d come back to the house and hung out for a bit before deciding to turn in.

“All set?” Lydia asked softly from the doorway not used to anyone other than Allison seeing her this way.

He turned to look up at her, eyes widening ever-so-slightly at the sight of her very down-to-earth and yet incredibly appealing choice of pajamas. She looked younger than usual, somehow, but still every bit as beautiful as always. Everything about Lydia seemed to be a contradiction, though, and he wasn’t sure why he was surprised.

He just...was.

“Yeah.” His voice caught in his throat for a moment and then he smiled up at her faintly. “Uh, do you wanna pop in a movie to try and go to sleep by or…” He really wasn’t sure what her sleeping habits normally consisted of.

Lydia stepped into the room, “Whatever you want to do. Do you usually sleep with a movie on?” She asked as she placed her stuff in her bag before heading over to the bed and sitting on the edge. Stiles had told her earlier she would sleep in the bed and he’d take the floor. Lydia told him it wasn’t necessary that she could sleep on the floor, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Not usually, but I wasn’t sure if that would make you more comfortable or something,” he admitted, giving her a lopsided smile. He motioned to his collection of DVDs in the corner. “If you want to you can pick something out. I may even have a copy of The Notebook.” Which of course, he’d bought just for future purposes if and when she wanted to visit.

Lydia swallowed hard. “You’re good guy, Stiles.” She said the words softly before smiling at him. “I’m okay though, we can save the Notebook for another day,” she joked, though the thought of watching it with Stiles didn’t make her want to laugh. Lydia cleared her throat, “Are you going to be okay down there?” She asked as she stood again and pulled back the covers on his bed.

He hadn’t been expecting the compliment but he smiled faintly in acknowledgment. He tried to be a good guy, even if sometimes he acted like an idiot or an ass. He didn’t want to be like Jackson or Aidan. He wanted to be like his dad, or Scott. They were the best guys that he knew. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he assured. “The carpet’s soft, remember?” he teased, referring to their last sleepover.

Lydia smiled, “Right.” She got into his bed taking a few minutes to get situated before resting her head back against his pillows. Lydia inhaled deeply. Stiles’ scent surrounded her. She shifted onto her side and pressed herself into the pillow enjoying the feel of his sheets against her skin. Lydia felt warm and safe. She could hear Stiles shifting on the floor and when he was still moving five minutes later she sighed. “This is ridiculous.” She stated. “You need your rest and you’re not going to get it on that floor, soft rug or not.” She told him as she sat up.

“It’s a big bed, we can share.” Lydia said waiting for him to get up.

Stiles’ eyes widened a little at her suggestion. She wanted to share his bed? Platonically, you idiot, he reminded himself. It wasn’t like they were going to cuddle. Although the last time they’d had a sleepover, they’d all ended up more or less cuddling. His dad was probably still wondering what that had been about. He hesitated a moment. “You sure?”

Lydia nodded, “Absolutely,” she said once again feeling her heartbeat quicken at the thought of him in bed beside her. They were just sharing a bed, nothing else. Lydia needed to get her body in check before she attempted to jump Stiles for no reason...well not for no reason. She shook the thought away before pushing the covers down and motioning for him to come over to the bed.

He swallowed hard, grabbing his pillow off the floor and setting it down on the bed, instantly recalling one of the dreams he’d had not that long ago. He’d been trapped in dreams, one after the other, and in one of them, he’d woken with her beside him, comforting him. He laid down beside her on the mattress, facing her and hoping that wasn’t going to be too awkward.

Lydia shifted so she was on her side and sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. It should feel strange to be in bed with Stiles, but it didn’t and that surprised her. The whole night had pretty much surprised her. “You should get some rest,” she said said finally breaking the silence, “You need it.” He was watching her and she swallowed hard while holding his gaze. “What?” she asked her voice soft. The room was quiet around them and the only light was coming in from the window.

She wasn’t wrong. It had been days since he’d slept well, without nightmares. Since the last time she’d stayed over, and part of him wondered if that was because she was his anchor. “Just...thank you. For everything. For being here for me. You’re a good person, Lyds,” he said sincerely, voice quiet. She was and he wondered how often it was that anyone actually reminded her of that fact.

His words made her heart warm. People were constantly saying things about her, but none of them were anything like what Stiles had just said. He knew her in a way no one else did. He saw her for who she was and Lydia was pretty sure Stiles would never know how much that meant to her. She was silent for a long minute before she shifted moving closer to him, reaching out her hand until it grazed his arm.

Lydia could hear her heartbeat echoing in her ears now and she tried to push the crazy nervousness aside. She moved again until her body was pressed against his side. “Are you comfortable?” She whispered.

He smiled faintly, hesitantly draping an arm around her waist and letting his hand rest against her back. Completely platonic and not at all inappropriate. They were friends, and friends could do things like that. “This okay?” he whispered back. It wasn’t like they weren’t the only two people in the house and needed to whisper, but they were in bed, the lights were out, and whispering was the only sound that seemed right in the situation.

“Yes,” the sound was soft like a sigh and Lydia rested her head on his chest her hand falling just above his waist near his stomach. She shifted her legs out of habit and they brushed against his. Lydia swallowed heavily, “Stiles?”

He held his breath when their legs brushed as she moved. “Yeah?” She was so close to him physically that it was hard to think.

Lydia opened her mouth and then closed it not sure what it was she wanted to say. “Have a good night,” she finally said even though she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be falling asleep just yet. Her fingers traced patterns on his chest as she tried to focus on sleep and not how close he was to her.

Stiles couldn’t help but think she had wanted to say something else and had thought better of it. “You too, Lyds,” he murmured, reluctantly closing his eyes.

Lydia watched him close his eyes and then took a deep breath and let it out slowly before doing the same and relaxing against him. Sleep was the best course of action at the moment, because anything else would change their relationship drastically and she wasn’t quite sure she was ready for that just yet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Stiles woke up the next morning feeling...rested. Comfortable. Sunlight was filtering into his bedroom through the window but he didn’t open his eyes even as he yawned. It took him a moment to realize that at some point during the night, Lydia had turned onto her side away from him and he’d spooned right up against her, their bodies tangled in a warm pile of arms and legs. His face was buried in her neck, hair tickling his nose. It was basically the best moment of his entire life.

A stupid grin spread across his face as he opened his eyes but didn’t move, not wanting to wake her. He just laid there, listening to the sound of her steady, even breathing. It was easy to forget that the reasons that led them there were pretty terrible ones and if he’d been the type of guy easily deluded by fantasy, he would have just let himself pretend that Lydia was there because she loved him, because they were together, because this was normal and happened all the time.

Stiles wasn’t that kind of guy. He resisted the urge to press a kiss to the back of her head, eyebrows furrowing as he caught sight of something just below his hairline. He blinked a couple of times, puzzled, and then reached up carefully, pulling a yellow post-it note off his forehead. He turned it over and grimaced as he read his dad’s writing there.

_Don’t forget to stop in the kitchen for breakfast, Son. Bring Lydia._

Uh-oh.

Lydia shifted the feel of the mattress moving beside her pulling her from sleep. A soft noise fell from her throat as she shifted pressing herself back into Stiles, not opening her eyes just yet seeking out the warm body behind her. “You move too much,” she said her voice thick with sleep. Lydia’s eyes fluttered open and she spotted the sunlight streaming into the room.

“Morning already?” She asked with a yawn enjoying the feel of his body behind hers. Lydia should feel weird shouldn’t she? Spending the night in bed with Stiles wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence. But she didn’t. Something about this felt right, but she wasn’t going to overanalyze it at least not first thing in the morning.

He shut his eyes as she pressed back against him. If she shifted much more, the morning was going to become incredibly awkward for more reasons than one. “Sorry,” he told her with a faint smile. “It’s the Adderall. Even in my sleep I tend to be hyper and move a lot.” He held his breath for a long moment, already trying to figure out a way to get them out of trouble with his dad without telling his dad what was really going on.

“You sleep okay?” he murmured, laying his head back down on the pillow for the time being.

Lydia turned so she was facing him, her head lying on the pillow beside Stiles’. “I slept really well.” She said reaching out and casually resting her fingers against his arm. “What about you? Any nightmares?” She asked worry creasing her brow. Lydia had gone over things and she was pretty certain that if she was there he should have slept well, but she wouldn’t believe it until she heard it from Stiles. He was looking at her and she couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. “Well, don’t keep me waiting.” She said finally when he didn’t answer right away.

“Sorry,” he said again, a sheepish smile touching his mouth. “No. No nightmares. I slept like a rock. You know, if rocks actually slept.” His gaze drifted to where her fingers were on his arm and then he lifted his eyes to her face once more. He didn’t know how she managed to look so perfect even first thing in the morning. He was pretty sure his hair was standing up in thirty different directions and that he had those wads of crust in the corners of his eyes from sleep, and oh god, his breath was probably horrible.

His smile was infectious and Lydia couldn’t help her answering one. Stiles was attractive, sure maybe it had taken her a while to see it, but that was her own stupidity for being so blinded by Jackson that no one else mattered. “I’m glad and please stop apologizing. You know ninety percent of the time I’m only joking with you. Though make sure you’re on the lookout for the ten percent I’m not.” She said her gaze drifting to his hair. Who knew Stiles Stilinski had such adorable bed head? Lydia was pretty sure she was the only girl who’d ever seen it...she’d better be the only girl who’d ever seen it.

The possessive thought startled her. Crap, she thought. That was going to be a problem later on. But right now she just wanted to enjoy the moment. It was rare that they got time alone where there wasn’t some kind of disaster, psychotic killer, or Alpha werewolf on the loose. “How’s your arm?” She dropped her gaze to the limb in question switching her fingers to the other arm gently.

A short chuckle escaped him at her words. It was amazing to think about how far they’d come, really. She’d gone from not knowing he was alive to somehow being his closest friend after Scott. He supposed that danger and trauma had a unique way of bringing people together and helping them forge bonds. She wasn’t wrong about that ten percent of the time, though. Lydia Martin could be very scary when she wanted to be, and he personally hoped it was never aimed at him.

He looked down at his arm which she’d helped re-bandage with clean bandages the night before, after dinner. “It doesn’t really hurt much,” he said honestly. But if he never woke from another nightmare with physical injuries, that would be completely fine with him. “Sort of feels like my life is like Nightmare on Elm Street, though.” His voice was light.

“Oh come on, they don’t get to wake up with hot girls in their bed, you do,” Lydia joked with a grin. “So I think you’re a little better off than the people from Nightmare on Elm Street. Remind me to broaden your horizon on movies.” She said as she stretched.

Stiles couldn’t help but grin back at her. She had that right. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with my horizon when it comes to movies.” Or hot girls for that matter, but he kept that part to himself.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “What time is it? How long do we have to get ready for school?” Lydia had a routine that she went through every day no matter what. Not always because she wanted to, but because being put together was part of her thing, even if she didn’t want to get out of bed at the moment.

“Uh, well.” He glanced at his bedside clock. “It’s almost ten, and it’s Saturday so no school, but…” His voice trailed off and he grimaced, handing her the post-it note silently.

“Oh god it is Saturday, why are we awake?” She asked while taking the note from him. She glanced down at the post-it and pursed her lips. Lydia caught Stiles gaze and she could see he was trying to read her expression. “Your Dad’s going to make us breakfast? I could eat.” Was all she said as she stuck the post-it to his shirt.

But her disregard of the note was short lived. Lydia was silent for a minute as she picked at Stiles’ shirt, her eyes on the fabric. “Am I getting you in trouble again?” She asked quietly. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She was confident in most areas, but she didn’t want the Sheriff to dislike her or yell at Stiles because of her.

“No,” he said immediately, shaking his head. “No, don’t even worry about that, okay? Seriously, Lydia. If I’m in trouble, it’s my own fault for not telling him what’s going on. You being here…” He exhaled slowly. “You’re a life-saver, all right?” He reached up and caught her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. Without really thinking about it, he brought their hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles in an effort to reassure her. It didn’t dawn on him until after what an intimate gesture that was.

“It’ll be fine.”

Lydia felt her cheeks warm at the gesture and she gnawed on her bottom lip. His mouth was soft against her fingers and she found herself wondering what it would feel like against her lips. Then again she didn’t really have to wonder. She already knew. “Okay,” she said quietly. She was silent after that, perfectly content to stay where she was. But it didn’t last long. “Do you think he’s waiting for us?” Lydia asked while keeping her hand in his.

If he knew his dad, he’d called in to let the department know he wouldn’t be in until later. If nothing was going on, he probably told them he wouldn’t be in at all. “Yeah. Yeah, probably.” He squeezed her hand, drawing in a breath. “We should probably face the music, huh?” He chewed his lower lip for a moment.

Lydia nodded, “Probably.” She watched him for a minute before sitting up and letting the covers fall to her waist. “Well, no dawdling then. Come on.” She released his hand slowly so she could get up. Lydia’s feet hit the carpet and she stood, once again stretching as she ran a hand through her long hair shaking it out. She fixed her shorts and then walked around the bed.

He couldn’t help but watch as she shook her hair out, feeling kind of mesmerized. He shook himself out of his stupor and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, yawning and rubbing a hand over his face.

Lydia stood there and held out a hand to Stiles, “I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty hungry,” and it was the truth. They had slept a long time and she was feeling well rested and slightly more energized than normal, which was probably because she was about to talk to Stiles’ Dad after spending the night in his sons bed.

When she held her hand out to him, he took it without hesitation, wondering at what point in their relationship they’d begun casually holding hands. He didn’t know the answer, but he liked the development. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m starving,” he admitted with a sheepish grin as his stomach growled. He was almost always hungry, though. He chalked it up to being a teenage boy. His dad liked to crack jokes about how Stiles could literally eat them out of house and home if they weren’t careful. He led her toward the door and held his breath as they descended the stairs.

As soon as they hit the stairs, he could smell the familiar scent of bacon and eggs. He frowned. His dad shouldn’t be eating bacon period. It was the most unhealthy thing on the planet. “That better be turkey bacon, Dad,” he said as they walked into the kitchen.

The Sheriff glanced over his shoulder right as his son walked into the kitchen, hand entwined with Lydia Martin. “Ah, there he is, the slumber party king.” His gaze shifted to Lydia. “Good morning Miss Martin.”

Stiles winced at his dad’s title for him as Lydia sent Stiles’ Dad a bright smile, “Morning Sheriff, the eggs smell delicious. Hopefully Stiles is right about the bacon though. Did you know regular bacon is addictive?” She asked as she tugged Stiles toward the kitchen table and kept talking. “It contains six types of umami, which produce an addictive neurochemical response in the body.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. “It’s just not healthy.”

The wince didn't last long on Stiles' face though when Lydia began to help lecture him about how bad bacon was. Stiles’ expression transformed into one of amazement by the time Lydia was done talking. She really was the perfect girl. 

The Sheriff pursed his lips still facing the pan and bit back a laugh. Of course Lydia wouldn’t be phased by his presence. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he commented as he added a few more finished pieces to the towel on the plate beside him.

The fact that his dad was trying not to laugh in response made him grin. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he’d thought it might be. He knew his dad wouldn’t do or say anything to hurt Lydia’s feelings in any way, which put him a step above every other dad on the planet in his book. He sat down beside Lydia, picking up the bottle of orange juice there and arching his eyebrows. “Juice or milk?”

“Juice please,” she could see the Sheriff glancing over at them every so often, but she didn’t say anything else for the moment and instead focused her attention on Stiles.

The Sheriff shut off the stove, placed the spatula in the pan and grabbed the plate full of eggs and the other one filled with turkey bacon, because that was all that was in the house thanks to his son. He knew Stiles only watched what he ate because he loved him though, so he cut him slack on replacing all the unhealthy food in the house.

He set the plates on the table and then pulled out the chair across from his son and Lydia. “So, now that we’ve got some food, which one of you wants to tell me what’s going on?” He wasn’t stupid, and for Stiles to have a bunch of people over during the week, things had to be a little off, but to have Lydia Martin sleeping alone in his bed. The world had to be ending or he was just trying to get himself grounded forever.

Stiles shifted in his seat after pouring each of them a glass of juice, pausing when his dad sat down across from them, folding his arms on the table and looking at them intently as he asked what was going on. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. There really weren’t enough words in the English language to describe how much he didn’t want to tell his dad what was going on. But he also hated lying to him. There just wasn’t an easy answer here. He sat back in his chair, chewing his lower lip for a moment.

“Okay, well...it uh, sorta goes back to the whole thing with the darach.” His voice was quiet. He looked at Lydia for a second, then back at his dad. “You know how Isaac and Allison showed up basically just in time to rescue you and Mrs. McCall and Mr. Argent?”

Mr. Stilinski arched an eyebrow at his son, “Yes, Stiles being kidnapped and held hostage by a crazy English teaching Darach tends to leave a mark on one’s memory. Get to the part that involves Lydia sleeping in your bed with you and why I shouldn’t ground you for the rest of your life,” he said his tone stern as he lifted the plate and held it out to them, “Eggs?”

He gave his dad a look, sighing with a hint of exasperation. “You kinda have to have the background before it’ll make sense, Dad. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Did you ever wonder how they were able to find you out in a root cellar in the middle of the woods?” He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head at the offer of eggs.

Lydia glanced between them and reached for the eggs figuring they shouldn’t go to waste. The Sheriff held the plate for her until she was finished taking some. 

He put the plate down and leaned his arms on the table his forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Well, I guess I just assumed someone got the information out of Jennifer or you figured it out,” in all honesty it was probably the one thing he hadn’t obsessed over about that night, but now he realized that was a mistake.

“That’s an incorrect assumption.” Lydia added her two-cents and when both Stilinski’s looked at her she cleared her throat. “Sorry, not helpful.”

Stiles managed a tiny smile at her before looking back at his dad and exhaling. “We had to do a thing. A ritual.” He hesitated, deciding to leave out the biggest detail because he really didn’t want to freak his dad out. “But apparently magic has this whole uh, set of side effects that comes with it.” He took a drink of juice, nervous, and then set it back down on the table once more. “Including Scott not being able to transform, which he figured out how to fix, and Allison was...she was being haunted by her dead aunt.”

He licked his lips, shifting in his chair. “Mine is night terrors.”

The Sheriff froze as he listened to his sons words. So the nightmares had been the result of Stiles saving them. A hint of guilt filled his chest at not having known that. He really wished Stiles would talk to him more. He knew ever since he found out about Scott and the rest of the things that went on in Beacon Hills, Stiles had been more honest. But he’d kept this to himself instead of letting him help.

The Sheriff sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose before glancing between Stiles and Lydia. But while he was watching them he noticed something about his son. Stiles actually looked better than he had in weeks. There were no more bags under his eyes, he was pale or withdrawn looking. He actually looked well-rested for once.

“Let me guess,” he said his tone light as he pointed at Lydia, “She has something to do with it?” He asked though his tone was merely curious, not judgmental or angry.

Stiles tried to read his dad’s expression, tried to gauge how he was taking the small pieces of information that he was giving him. He didn’t think his dad knowing the whole thing would do either of them any good because what was done was done, and he didn’t like adding to his dad’s stress level any more than was absolutely necessary.

But there was no anger in his dad’s voice, and he wondered if his father was thinking about the night terrors Stiles used to have when he was a kid. He’d had them for about a year when he was five, and the only thing that could calm him down was his mom. They’d returned shortly after she’d passed away. Nightmares and panic attacks and generalized anxiety that lasted around the clock. He’d worried about everything then. Whether his dad would survive each shift at work. Whether their house would burn down. Whether he’d be sent away because his dad just didn’t want him around, couldn’t deal with the constant reminder of his dead wife. He never had, of course, but the fear had been incredibly real nonetheless.

So he nodded slightly, chewing his lower lip. “She was my anchor in the ritual we did, and…” He hesitated, looking down. “We sort of have to do another one to stop the nightmares.”

The Sheriff frowned, “Now hold on a minute,” he leaned forward, “You can’t just go around doing,” he waved his hands searching for the word, “Magic ritual things whenever you feel like it. It could be dangerous Stiles.” He didn’t know what he would do if anything ever happened to his son. Stiles was the most important person in his life. He couldn’t lose him. “How do you know this isn’t going to make it worse?” He asked and before Stiles could answer Lydia butted in.

“Mr. Stilinski we need to do this ritual. The nightmares Stiles has been having,” she paused trying to figure out how to phrase it without telling his Father too much knowing that Stiles didn’t want him to worry, “They’re dangerous. I know how that sounds, believe me, but I’m going to be with him. And Scott too. Neither of us will let anything happen to Stiles. I promise you.”

Lydia reached out and rested a hand on Stiles leg, “I know how important he is to you because you’re just as important to him.” She explained, “And really if you’re going to be angry at someone it should probably be me because not only did I make him invite me over, but I’m the one who made him sleep on the bed.” When the Sheriff’s brows lifted Lydia continued.

“He looked so uncomfortable on the floor I felt bad. But it worked and Stiles was a perfect gentleman so that’s something you should be proud of.” She told him while reaching for her fork.

The Sheriff shook his head. “Is this a banshee thing?” He asked them.

It was Lydia’s turn to look surprised; she sent Stiles a sideways glance, “You told him I was a banshee?”

Stiles grimaced, suddenly feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Both because of the idea of the upcoming ritual, and because of his mentioning the word banshee in front of said _banshee_. He blew out a breath, shifting in his chair awkwardly. “I was trying to stop him from pulling the police away from the school the other day and I had to tell him why.” Not that it had mattered. At a base level, he still wasn’t sure his dad believed in half the things that happened in Beacon Hills at all. Werewolves had been a hell of a stretch, and he’d actually had to see Scott transform before he did believe.

He looked back at his dad, sighing softly. “I don’t think it’s a banshee thing. I think it’s more a Lydia thing, period.”

The Sheriff opened his mouth, but Lydia cut off his words before he could say anything. “I’m not just a Banshee.” She pointed out.

The Sheriff held up a hand, “I know, relax. Both of you just, just give me a minute to process all of this.” He leaned back in his seat and sighed while rubbing the back of his neck. If it wasn’t one thing it was another. Werewolves, kanimas, Darach’s, alpha’s and now Druid rituals. He still didn’t exactly believe in all of the crazy that his son spouted, but he didn’t not believe either. He’d seen Scott change on several occasions and werewolves definitely explained a lot of what happened in the town.

But this was his son’s life and he knew he needed to trust him. Even if it was hard. Stiles was a smart kid. He blew out a breath. “Okay, so these nightmares are because you helped find us. Now the only way to get rid of them is to do a ritual to make them go away. And Lydia is here because she’s your anchor…and what does that mean?”

Lydia decided to take this once since she wasn’t fond of being talked about like she wasn’t actually there. “When they did the ritual last time Stiles needed someone he had a connection to, to tether him to this world.” She explained, “That was me. And apparently that made the connection stronger because when I’m here with him Stiles doesn’t have nightmares. He’s safe, which is why I’m here.”

The Sheriff did his best not to look amused at the girl sitting in front of him who couldn’t be more than 120 pounds of pure snark, “So you’re protecting my son.”

Lydia nodded and arched a perfectly shaped brow at him when she noticed the humor on his face, “Is that a problem?” Parent or not no one was going to tell her she couldn’t hold her own.

The Sheriff blinked and straightened up, “No, no of course not.” He said as he lifted his juice and took a quick sip.

Lydia was satisfied by his words and took a bite of eggs. “These are good.” She said casually like they hadn’t just been talking about rituals and anchors.

Stiles looked back and forth between them as they talked, blinking a few times and raising his eyebrows. Yep. He was definitely going to have to have Lydia come over more often. Not only did she keep his nightmares away, but his dad apparently liked her and trusted her already. She’d tied up a conversation he hadn’t wanted to have in the first place, put a pretty silver bow on it and smoothed everything over with his dad with expertise that Stiles actually envied.

Lydia Martin was freakin’ amazing.

______

Scott walked into his room and plopped down on his bed, before holding out a can of ice tea to Stiles. “Here you go man, sorry that took so long, Kira sent me a text and I uh, got a little distracted,” he said sheepishly. “So, what were we studying again?” He glanced at the books lying on the bed in front of him and sighed. It was Sunday afternoon and he and Stiles had been hanging out for the past two hours, but they only recently decided to crack open a book since they both had upcoming tests this week in class.

Stiles arched an eyebrow at the mention of Kira, smirking faintly. “Well, you’re studying for chemistry, which Lydia and I studied for yesterday. And I’m studying for English since I fell way behind in the reading because of the whole...not being able to read a thing.” He sighed, flopping down onto Scott’s bed face first after setting the can down.

Scott chuckled, “Well at least you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” he joked. “I can’t read this chapter again, it’s killing me...slowly,” he said dramatically as he slammed the book shut. He shifted and glanced at his best friend. “You’re looking pretty good today, how’d things go last night? I was worried about you.” He said as he rested on his back with his hands behind his head.

“Well.” He rolled onto his back, too, yawning. “I didn’t have any nightmares.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Which was a first in awhile.” It was a nice feeling, to say the least. Sleeping without nightmares definitely beat his initial plan of staying awake around the clock until the full moon. “Sorry you were worried.” He looked over at his friend.

Scott shrugged, “It’s okay as long as you’re good. So Lydia staying worked?” He asked even though he already knew the answer. It seemed like Lydia being Stiles’ anchor was the answer to a lot of their problems.

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s kinda...I don’t know, it’s kinda unexpected, you know? I mean, I’ve loved her for years.” He’d liked her since the first time he’d seen her in pre-school, but he’d loved her since he was eight. “I never in a million years would’ve thought we’d actually end up friends. Or that she’d end up as my anchor. Or that she’d keep saving my life.” He paused. “Or that my dad would be _cool_ with her spending the night _in my actual bed_. You know, with me there too.”

Scott perked up, “Dude, Lydia spent the night in your bed?” He asked his grin practically gleeful. “You didn’t mention that. As a matter-of-fact I don’t remember hearing any of this. Why don’t you tell me anything anymore?” He asked with a frown as he sat up and glanced down at Stiles. “So...what’s going on there. With you and Lydia I mean, you guys seem closer.” He said bringing up the topic he’d been meaning to ask about for a while.

“Okay, it wasn’t anything more than sleeping and maybe some platonic snuggling was had.” His own smile slipped at Scott’s question, when he frowned. Because he was right. He used to tell Scott everything and he missed that more than he wanted to admit. He sat up, too, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, dude. There’s been a lot going on, you know? I mean you’re the alpha now.” Plus he had Isaac. “But nothing’s really going on. I mean, we’ve just...gotten to know each other better, I guess. She’s cool. I mean, not like I didn’t think she was cool before, but I feel like I actually know _her_ now.”

Scott sat up and nodded. “You do know her,” he replied as he scratched the back of his neck. “For the record Stiles, no matter how many wolves come into town or crazy things happen in here, you will always be my best friend.” He said, “Any time you need to talk I’m here.” He said, “No one is more important.” He told his friend.

A faint smile touched his mouth and he nodded. If things hadn’t been so crappy lately, he probably would have made a crack about if they were supposed to kiss or something now. He liked getting a rise out of people. But Scott’s words actually calmed his growing insecurities a little, so he decided to save it. “You too, dude.”

Scott grinned and shifted on the bed.

“Is she staying with you tonight?” He asked probably already knowing the answer. Lydia was the only thing keeping Stiles in one piece and they still had four more days until the full moon.

“Yeah. She’s staying over the rest of the week. Until the ritual. Which my dad knows about. Sort of. Bare minimum details, you know?”

Scott inclined his head, “I’ve got to say I’m sort of impressed you told him. My Mom still doesn’t know about what you me and Allison did to find them. But now that things are finally getting back to normal there’s no reason to really tell her.” It wasn’t like with Stiles where the door in his mind wasn’t closed.

“The ritual will be over soon and then things will be back to normal as usual, which actually isn’t really normal.” Scott said with a grin.

“He doesn’t know all of it. He doesn’t know about the whole seventeen hour ice bath part. I just said we had to do a magic ritual in order to find them and that Lydia acted as my anchor, and that we have to do another ritual to stop the nightmares.” It was all the truth, he just left out the harsher details. Like Scott said, there wasn’t a reason to tell him. To tell any of them.

Scott felt a soft vibration in his pocket and he shifted so he could reach in and grab it. He grinned when he saw another text from Kira. Things between them were going slow, which was good since Scott just got out of his relationship with Allison not too long ago.

He arched his eyebrows as Scott pulled his phone out. “Kira?” he asked with a faint smirk.

Scott grinned, “Yeah, is it wrong that with all of this going on I’m really enjoying getting to know her?” He knew he had a bunch of responsibilities especially with forming a pack that suddenly everyone wanted to be a part of. “I was actually thinking of asking if she wanted to go bowling or something tonight.” Scott knew it sounded crazy, but they couldn’t do anything on the ritual front for another four days. Why not keep himself occupied?

“Dude, no. That’s not wrong, okay? That’s normal. You should get to have that once in awhile,” Stiles said honestly. “You guys should definitely go bowling. Or to dinner or something.” It was hard telling how long it would be before the next supernatural problem came along that would demand Scott’s attention. He grinned, reaching out and clapping his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “I say go for it.”

“Yeah?” When Stiles nodded Scott smiled again. “Oh, hey why don’t you come with us?” He asked, “Bring Lydia we can grab some food and bowl or go play pool.” Scott scrolled through the message. “Maybe we can see if everyone else wants to go too. We could all use a night off of being chased by supernatural bad guys.” He joked.

“You sure you don’t want it to be like a two person date thing instead of a whole bunch of people group thing?” His eyebrows rose again. “Or is this your way of beginning to integrate Kira with the rest of us to see how freaked out she may or may not get by all of our insanity?” He smirked. It would, at the very least, be a pretty good test of Kira’s patience around everyone Scott cared about.

Scott sent Stiles a guilty look, “Okay so maybe I want to see how she gets along with everyone thrown into the loop, but there’s nothing wrong with that. You in or out?” He asked his fingers hovering above the phone.

“I’ll text Lydia,” he said with a grin.

______

Lydia sat at Allison’s desk, her eyes on her notebook even though her head was a million miles away. Her pen moved against the paper in the notebook as she doodled some silly design there. Lately she found her thoughts drifting to Stiles more and more. She couldn’t help it. It was almost as if it was a reflex at this point. There was a bag in her car packed with make-up, hair products, and clothes that she planned on bringing back to his house tonight.

Since the Sheriff had surprisingly okay’ed her staying until the ritual of theirs was done, Lydia figured she might as well be prepared so she didn’t have to keep running back and forth to her house. She hoped Stiles didn’t mind. A sigh left her lips and she pressed down harder on the pen.

He seemed to be doing better. He’d gotten his color and sense of humor back, which she was more relieved about than she let on. And staying in the Stilinski house was actually kind of nice. Prada liked it there too and she’d taken quite a liking to the Sheriff. Lydia found her sleeping on the Sheriff's lap on the reclining chair in the living room that morning. He was sleeping too. It was adorable.

A crumpled piece of paper landed on her book and Lydia jumped, startled. Her pen stopped moving and she blinked. Lydia slowly glanced over her shoulder at Allison and arched an eyebrow. “Have we taken to throwing things at each other?”

Allison grinned at her best friend from where she was laying belly-down on her bed, open history book in front of her. She’d been watching Lydia pretend to study -- or try to study -- for the last half hour but the red head kept getting this distant look on her face. Like she was a million miles away with anything and everything but school on her mind. Lydia was a straight A student, destined to be their class valedictorian -- the only possible competition the guy whose life they were trying to save.

“We have. Because you haven’t turned a page in your book for at least thirty minutes and I’m bored.”

Lydia blinked, surprise coloring her features as she glanced down at her book. Huh, Allison was right. She sighed and shoved the book with disgust. “I’ve already done all the reading for class twice. This was just going to be a refresher read anyway.” She explained as she shifted in the chair, crossed her legs, and glanced at her best friend.

“There are many cures for boredom,” Lydia said while flipped her hair over her shoulder. “How are things going with shooting? Back to being an amazing shot?” She asked realizing she hadn’t checked in on that front in a while, but that was only because she knew Isaac had it covered.

At that question, she ducked her head, still mortified that she’d almost killed Lydia with an arrow not that long ago. “Yeah, it’s under control again. I haven’t had any problems since…” Her voice trailed off and she glanced at Lydia with a faint smile. “Well, you know when.”

“Since you tried to take my head off with an arrow?” She joked, a smile pulling at her lips. “Don’t worry we’re just going to chalk that little debacle up to crazy mystical ritual resonance.” Lydia told her good naturedly. She knew Allison hadn’t meant to almost kill her and come on if she were being honest they had all almost killed each other at some point.

Isaac didn’t seem to mind that Allison had practically filet’ed him. Derek was pretty good about Lydia drugging him and using him to bring back Peter and Stiles didn’t seem to mind that Scott had almost killed him twice. Life and death was practically part of their everyday lives. “I’m glad to hear things are going good though.” She said as she watched Allison. “And Isaac, how’s he?” Lydia asked casually.

Allison’s cheeks colored when Lydia asked about Isaac. “Um, Isaac’s fine. He’s doing fine. Have you noticed that like, weird tension between him and Stiles?” Yes, Allison was changing the subject. She wasn’t sure what the thing between her and Isaac was but they’d decided to try and figure it out, after they figured out how to save Stiles. Because Allison was all about prioritizing. It was an Argent family trait. No. It was a Chris Argent trait. And she’d rather take after her dad than her mom or her grandpa or her aunt, considering. 

Lydia arched an eyebrow, “I have noticed it, I’ve also noticed a pretty strange tension between the two of you.” She said with a smirk and a knowing look. “Stiles has his odd moments just like any of us,” she commented flippantly.

Lydia was pretty sure that he was just being loyal to Scott and that’s why he tended to give Isaac a hard time. And it was possible he felt mildly threatened by Scott’s new Alpha status and how it would affect their friendship, but Lydia wasn’t about to share that with Allison best friend or not. It wasn’t her place.

Allison rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible, Lydia.” Her voice was teasing and affectionate because she loved the other girl like a sister. “And speaking of strange tension...I’ve noticed there’s a great deal of it between _you_ and Stiles, too.” She arched an eyebrow. “What’s that about?”

“Stiles and me?” Lydia lifted her shoulder and tilted her head to the side. “Nothing. I mean well I’m his anchor obviously,” she said logically. “And I’m helping him because that’s what friends do.” That pretty much summed it up not at all. Things between her and Stiles had been different lately and despite the fact that she promised herself she wasn’t going to overanalyze things. She was definitely over analyzing things.

All this time she’d been ignoring things that were right in front of her because Lydia hadn’t thought she was ready to accept them, but now she was thinking she might be.

“Obviously,” Allison acknowledged, watching her intently. “But maybe it works both ways.” With that innocent comment, she suppressed a smile and looked down at the book she’d been trying to study from, fully knowing she wasn’t going to get anything accomplished.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Mmm,” she glanced down at her nails, she could really use a manicure. Her phone vibrated on Allison’s desk and she reached for it. Lydia scrolled through the message and arched an eyebrow. “Stiles just invited us to go bowling.” She sent Allison an amused look. The last time Lydia went bowling had been with Allison, Scott, and Jackson.

She arched an eyebrow at Lydia, meeting her knowing look with one of her own, then shaking her head. “Well, we aren’t doing very well with the whole studying thing, so, why not?”

Lydia smiled, “I’ll let him know. This should be fun,” she said under her breath as she sent a message to Stiles letting him know they were in. “Do you want to invite Isaac?” Lydia asked over her shoulder.

“Yeah. We shouldn’t leave him out. He’s part of the group now.” Her voice was soft. She worried about Isaac. Worried that he didn’t feel like he was enough to be around them. That he wasn’t just as integral to the group as everyone else. “I’ll text him.”

Lydia nodded. “Good. I like Isaac. I think the two of you are good for each other.” She commented as she closed her book, uncrossed her legs and stood. She was looking forward to doing something fun. It had been a while since any of them were able to take a breath and relax.

______

Isaac hadn’t been sure he wanted to see his former alpha when Scott told him Derek was back in town. But Scott seemed to think they all needed to try and get along with Derek. To welcome him back. He knew that he’d said some pretty hurtful things to the older werewolf before Derek had left town, and while he may have regretted them, it didn’t mean they weren’t true. Or at least that they hadn’t been true at the time.

But Scott was the alpha now. And his closest friend, aside from Allison. He respected Scott and knew that if Scott believed getting along with Derek was for the best, then it was for the best. It was with some reservations that had him standing on the eldest Hale’s doorstep that afternoon, a pizza box in one hand.

It wasn’t the best peace offering, he supposed, but it was what he could do. He knocked lightly on the door even though Derek probably already knew he was there, and he waited.

Derek hesitated, standing just inside the loft near the door. Isaac. One of the last times he spoke to Isaac he was horrible to him. It was one of many moments that Derek truly regretted. Isaac had stuck by him, been loyal and he’d yelled at him. Kicked him out, even hit him. Derek’s chest tightened. He’d done it to protect him. Kicking him out of the loft had never been about Cora.

It had been about Cali and the other Alpha’s and not wanting Isaac’s blood on his hands. He’d been safer with Scott, which was where Derek knew Isaac would go. But it didn’t change what he’d done and sooner or later he was going to need to answer for the choices he made. And it looked like one of those times would be today.

Derek breathed in deeply, took a few steps forward, grabbed the handle on the door and yanked it open. The sight in front of him made his brows draw together in confusion. Isaac stood there with a box of pizza in his hand. Derek paused, “Sausage and pepperoni?”

“There any other kind?” He smiled, but it was an uncertain, almost nervous smile. He wasn’t sure that Derek would want him there. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Uh, if this is a bad time, I can go. Scott said you were back and I kinda figured maybe…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged, falling silent as he waited for some kind of reaction.

Derek studied Isaac for a minute and then stepped out of the doorway sliding the door open further. “It’s not a bad time. Everyone has to eat right?” He asked as he took a few steps back. “How are you Isaac?” He slipped his hands into his pocket while watching the younger man.

“I’m fine. Good. You know the usual.” He stepped inside Derek’s loft and glanced around, kind of surprised to see that not only were there curtains up for the first time, but there was fresh paint on the walls. He hadn’t been expecting that. He wondered if that meant that Derek was settling in, and actually planning to stick around. Before, he’d always gotten the impression that Derek didn’t really care about that kind of thing. He wondered what had changed in the last few weeks.

Derek noticed Isaac looking around and he saw the same surprise on Isaac’s face that he’d seen on Scott’s. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m just getting around to fixing up the place.” He explained. He finished the walls yesterday and would probably spend his night working on the trimming. Then came the part he hated. Shopping. He needed to get some furniture and maybe even move the bed upstairs instead of in the middle of his apartment. It was something to think about.

Derek motioned to the only table in the loft. “I can grab some paper plates.” He said, “I don’t have many beverage choices. Just water and beer.” He admitted. Derek hadn’t been expecting a guest, though he supposed if he was going to stick around Beacon Hills and try to make a home here then he should probably start preparing for company, not that there was anyone who actually wanted to visit him.

“I should probably stick with water. I don’t think Mrs. McCall would be very happy if I came back with alcohol on my breath.” He smiled faintly and moved to set the pizza box on the table. Isaac watched as Derek headed into the kitchen for the drinks and the paper plates and he shifted from one foot to the other.

Derek made his way back into the room two water bottle in one hand and the plates in the other. His face held an expression of amusement as he set everything down on the table. “I wasn’t offering beer,” he clarified, “Werewolf or not you're still underage.” Not that Derek was too much of a stickler.

“Oh.” Isaac shrugged, a little sheepish. He kinda figured if he’d wanted beer, Derek probably wouldn’t put up much of a hassle. It wasn’t like the guy was a strict rule-follower. Maybe he really had changed. “So uh, what made you decide to come back to Beacon Hills anyway?” he couldn’t help but ask. Scott had only said that Derek was back, not the reasons behind his return.

Derek pulled out one of the chairs and sat down as he slid a plate and water bottle to Isaac. “As much as I hate to admit it, Beacon Hills is home. I’ve got a few things to look into and then, well I guess it’s finally time to make a life for myself somewhere. Here is good as anywhere else.” He said with a shrug and he pulled open the pizza box.

“What’s up with Cora?” He was kind of disappointed that his sister hadn’t returned with him, if only for the fact that he considered her a friend and he didn’t have a lot of those. He waited for Derek’s answer while pulling a slice of pizza out of the box and taking a large bite of it.

Derek arched an eyebrow. “She needed some time to herself.” He admitted, “Though Peter did come back with me. I don’t know if he’s still in town though, I haven’t spoken to him in a while.” Which of course probably meant he was up to no good. Derek reached for a slice of pizza and after he put it on his plate he glanced up at Isaac who was already almost finished with his first slice. Derek swallowed heavily. “I wanted to apologize for what I said to you the night I kicked you out of the loft.” His voice was quiet and gruff. Derek wasn’t used to apologizing, but part of the reason he’d come back to Beacon Hills was to make amends, start over. And that meant fixing what he’d broken. He owed that to Erica and Boyd and to himself. “It was wrong of me to treat you that way.”

Isaac was silent for a moment, genuinely surprised by the apology. He hadn’t known that kind of thing was in Derek’s repertoire. “Yeah, it was,” he agreed, looking up at Derek. He leaned back in the chair, exhaling. “But I kinda get why you did it. I mean I figured it out. If I was part of Scott’s pack, you wouldn’t have to possibly kill me. Right?”

Derek watched Isaac before inclining his head. “I made you, all of you. And I felt responsible for all of you I still do. Losing a member of your pack,” he paused his chest tightening. “For an Alpha it hurts more than you probably understand.” He said quietly. “As a pack you’re connected to each other to a certain extent, but you’re all connected to your Alpha. When you’re in trouble, pain, when you roar...we can feel that.” He was silent for a minute.

“It’s like a physical manifestation of what you're feeling inside of us. And losing Erica, well I was worried you and Boyd would be next.” He admitted honestly. “The Alpha pack was after me and honestly I would have sent Cora packing with you if I thought she would have went.” Derek shrugged. “You were safer with Scott.”

He listened closely as Derek spoke. He hadn’t been aware that an alpha could actually feel when one of their own was in trouble or in pain. And he wondered if it worked that way for Scott even though Scott hadn’t actually turned him, since Derek wasn’t technically an alpha anymore at all. Perplexed, he leaned his elbows on the table.

“Okay so, how does it work with Scott then? I mean, he’s an alpha, but he hasn’t actually created any werewolves himself and technically I’m the only member of his pack unless…” He arched his eyebrows at Derek. “Are you going to be joining us?”

Derek pursed his lips and let out a breath. His face looked like he was tasting something sour, but he kept his mouth shut for a minute. He wasn’t big on questions. He wasn’t big on talking really, but these were all things he probably should have explained from the beginning when turning them.

“You don’t need to create werewolves to have a pack. When I sacrificed my alpha strength to heal Cora, all the alphas I created became Omegas.” He explained. “Without a leader you can’t have a pack.” He paused his brows drawing together, “Well, you can, but not a traditional pack. Like when we were trying to get Scott to join us,” he explained.

“The reason he was fighting it was because he already had a pack. Allison, Stiles, Lydia...humans, but they followed him. They listened to him. He was their leader despite the fact that he was a Beta. It’s not typical, but it happens and that’s why Scott wouldn’t accept me as his Alpha. He’s always been a true Alpha. It’s rare, but not unheard of.” Derek took a bite of his pizza and chewed.

“Now that Scott’s an Alpha, you’re bound to the pack he already created with the humans. But it will be different with you. You’ve accepted Scott as your Alpha and he probably doesn’t even realize the connection that’s already there. It doesn’t happen with humans so it will be new to him. I’m an Omega...for now.” Derek said not really too worried about it despite the fact that he knew Omega’s didn’t last long on their own.

“Well that answered another one of my questions. If Scott actually feels when the humans are in trouble.” He took another bite of pizza, contemplating everything Derek had told him. “For now. So does that mean you’re looking into another pack? Or that you’re considering joining Scott’s?”

Derek studied Isaac’s expression before speaking. “Scott and I are on good terms. I respect him.” He said hesitating, “He asked for my help with Stiles and the ritual. I told him I would help. But I’m not sure what I’m doing pack wise yet.” He told him honestly. “Regardless, Scott knows if he needs help or any of you do he can always come to me. For now I think that’s enough. We’ll see what happens.” He said before taking another bite of pizza.

Isaac nodded slowly, swallowing his bite of pizza and taking a drink of water. He started to say something else when his phone beeped, letting him know he had a text message. It was either Scott or Allison because no one else ever texted him. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at it, smiling a little involuntarily when he saw Allison’s name as the sender. He arched his eyebrows and read the message. Bowling. He hadn’t expected that.

Derek watched Isaac’s expression change and curiosity got the better of him even though he knew from experience he’d regret asking. “What’s with that expression…” he motioned to Isaac’s face with his hand, “It looks like you ate a rainbow.”

“Uh.” He hesitated a second, not sure how well Derek would take with the idea of him and Allison possibly being more than friends. “Allison texted. Apparently there’s a big group bowling thing tonight.” He tried to sound nonchalant but his cheeks colored and he ducked his head, quickly taking another bite of pizza.

“Oh no,” Derek chuckled and shook his head. He couldn’t help it. The Argents were going to be the death of them all. Though after Allison found out about what her Mother did to Scott, she’d gotten a little better with things, though he was pretty sure she didn’t hate him any less. He hadn’t meant to bite her Mother, it happened and he didn’t really regret it because her Mother was the reason werewolf hunters were feared. She had been ruthless and hadn’t followed the code. But he knew what losing a parent did to kids. Hell, look at what it had done to him.

Derek shook the thought away, that wasn’t something to get into now. He caught Isaac’s gaze the smirk still on his face. “You’ve been sucked in by the Argent woman charm...I’m starting to think they’re werewolf kryptonite not the weapons they wield.” He mumbled. Derek arched a brow as something occurred to him. “Does Scott know?” Werewolves in general were territorial when it came to what they thought was theirs, but Alphas were worse.

“Yeah, kinda.” He let out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face. So far Scott had thrown him into the wall twice over the situation, but he thought Scott was cooling off about it. “I mean, I don’t think they’re getting back together.” Not if the way Allison kept looking at him was any indication. It didn’t mean Isaac didn’t feel a twinge of guilt over it.

Derek nodded and leaned back in his seat. “Be careful with how you handle things.” He said lightly, “Allison is an...interesting girl. At least she’s not psychotic like her Aunt.” He said before leaning forward and reaching for another slice of pizza. There was still a twinge inside of him every time he or someone else brought up Kate.

There was a very large part of him that still blamed himself for his families death. He trusted Kate, loved her despite his families warnings. He had taken her side over his packs, stuck up for her and then she’d betrayed him and killed everyone he loved with the help of her Father and his hunters. Derek had been stupid; he’d listened to his heart instead of his head. After that he promised himself he’d never fall in love again, that he would never give someone that kind of power over his life again.

And then Jennifer happened. Derek swallowed his bite of pizza. That wound was still too raw especially the memories it brought up of Paige. Derek had only loved three women in his life and he’d lost them all, betrayed by two of them. He was very much starting to think he was attracted to the wrong type of woman.

“No, she’s not.” Although he knew as well as anyone that Allison had gone off the rails for awhile, after her mom had killed herself. Isaac popped a piece of pepperoni into his mouth. “You should come with us. Tonight. For bowling.”

Surprise crossed Derek’s face. “Bowling?” he said dumbfounded. “You want me to...bowl?” He asked confused. The invitation was the last thing he had expected and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

“Yeah, why not? You can hang out with everyone and get caught up on all the teen drama and gossip that you’ve missed while you were gone.” Isaac smirked, arching an eyebrow at him and taking a drink of water.

Derek could almost see the challenge in the teenager’s eyes. His eyes turned to slits. “Alright. I will come...bowling. I will bowl.” He said again trying to make himself believe that he was actually going to join a bunch of teenagers bowling. What had his life come to? This was a disaster in the making; he was secure enough in himself to say that he absolutely had no idea how to act in a crowd of people. It had been too long since he spent time with people in setting where he wasn’t fighting for his life. Tonight was definitely going to be interesting.


	8. Chapter 8

Scott rested his hands on top of Kira’s as he stood behind her the pink bowling ball clasped in both their hands as music blared around them. “Okay, now you’re just going to take a few steps forward, keep your fingers in the holes, pull back your arm, and release in a straight arch right down the middle.” He said as he leaned into her, but kept a respectable amount of distance between their bodies not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

He could see Stiles out of the corner of his eye sitting in one of the seats and glancing at his phone, but Scott kept most of his attention on Kira. They had picked her up on the way to the bowling alley. According to Stiles, Allison and Lydia were meeting them there and they had invited Isaac. Scott was glad. He didn’t want things to be awkward with all of them and he knew how much they all needed a night off from their crazy lives so they could just be teenagers.

“How does that feel?” He asked bringing his attention back to his impromptu bowling lesson.  
Kira was more than a little nervous to be this close to Scott McCall. It felt like every other day her dad was doing or saying something horrifically embarrassing about her right in front of the guy. She was amazed that he was even agreeable to still hanging out with her. It wasn’t like she was a social butterfly. Not by any means. But he’d invited her to go bowling with him and his friends and now he was actually giving her a bowling lesson and she felt almost light-headed.

“A little weird, but I’ve never actually done this before,” she admitted, releasing the bowling ball a moment later and watching with embarrassment as it made it halfway down the lane and...went straight into the gutter.

Scott chuckled softly. “It’s okay, you should have seen me the first time I went bowling,” he said softly as he stepped back from her. “It’s takes a little practice, but you’ll get better.” He said matter-of-factly. He grinned as he walked over to Stiles to check in on his friend. Scott was really glad Kira agreed to go with them. Honestly he hadn’t been sure she would. He finally looked away from her and arched a brow at Stiles. “Who are you texting? You’re not gonna bowl?”

“I’m gonna bowl, Dude. I was just...texting with Lydia,” Stiles confessed with a faint smile. He checked his phone once more and then tucked it into his pocket as he stood up. He wasn’t great at bowling, but he wasn’t terrible either. He and his dad used to occasionally go bowling as a father-son bonding experience. He picked up one of the bowling balls, stepped up to the lane and rolled the ball, knocking down six of the pins.

Scott grinned, “Nice,” he said patting Stiles on the back as he walked over to Kira who had just picked up her ball from the belt. He met her gaze, “This is nice, I’m glad you were able to come out tonight. The other’s should be here soon I’m sure.” He said glancing over his shoulder knowing Stiles had one more turn before he was supposed to go.

Kira smiled at him almost shyly. “Thank you for inviting me.” She hesitated. “It’s not really a big secret that I’m pretty much...not good with people.”

Scott’s brows drew together, “No, you’re great.” He paused his cheeks warming. God, he was an idiot, “I mean you’re great with people...you’re good with me.” He reached back and rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you want me to show you how to hold the ball again or do you want to try yourself? You can have my turn if you want.” He offered. Scott wasn’t sure why he couldn’t seem to make his mouth work tonight.

Her cheeks colored at the compliment, even if he hadn’t really meant to say it that way. She wasn’t really used to people paying any attention to her at all. She’d had friends at her last school, but none of the guys had ever expressed an interest and Scott...there was just something about him that she really liked. He was sweet and adorable, and he’d seen her controlling electricity which really wasn’t at all normal, and he was still willing to hang out with her. “Thanks,” she said softly, tucking some hair behind her ear. “Um, yeah, if you want to show me again, that’d be great.”

Scott’s smile was warm. “Sure,” he glanced over at Stiles, “What’d you score man?” He asked as he guided Kira back over to the lane so they were standing beside Stiles.

“Seven,” he said with a shrug, glancing over at his best friend and Kira and doing his best not to grin at how relaxed Scott actually looked for once. “Don’t worry. Scott’ll have you throwing strikes before the night’s over.”

Kira smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know about that. If I could just hit one or two I think I’ll be doing good.”

Stiles chuckled.

Scott’s face brightened, “Kira is going to take my turn. Come on,” he said placing his arms on her shoulders and steering her a few feet over so she was standing directly in front of the lane. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Good,” he said when she followed his directions. “Now grip the ball the way I showed you and I’ll help you pull your arm back.” He told her softly. Scott was getting distracted. Her hair smelled like fruit. Why did girls always smell like fruit? He didn’t know, but it was nice.

Kira’s heart was beating a little faster than usual in her chest as she let Scott guide her through the motions. This time when she released the ball, it rolled down the aisle and knocked over four pins. She let out a delighted squeal, then clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes widening. She was such a dork.

Scott grinned, “See, I knew you could do it.” He said with a short laugh. “Nice job.” A new song started playing as the sound of pins being knocked down filled the area around them.

“Well, I had a little help,” Kira pointed out, cheeks pink as she turned to look at him.

Scott caught a whiff of hot dogs from the concession stand at the other end of the bowling alley. His stomach grumbled and he sent Kira a sheepish grin. “I think I’m going to grab some soda and something to eat, can I get you anything?” He asked. Kira was incredibly pretty when she smiled, Scott thought.

“Um, soda? Soda would be good. Any kind. I’m not picky.”

Stiles grinned as he watched the interaction from a few feet away, shaking his head and turning to look at the entrance of the alley where he spotted Lydia and Allison. He rose to his feet and lifted his hand in a wave, looking a little awkward.

Lydia spotted Stiles and she smiled, “He’s so awkward sometimes,” it’s cute, she added silently. The ride there hadn’t taken long, but Lydia insisted on changing before they came. If they were going out she wanted to look nice. She wore a short black skirt and a beige sweater with heels, which Allison reminded her were not appropriate for bowling.

Lydia didn’t care though. They made their way across the bowling alley to the lane Stiles was standing in. “Hey,” she said her voice light. “Where are they going?” She asked nodding toward Scott and Kira who were talking as they walked in the opposite direction.

If Allison hadn’t been standing there, he would have made a joke about Scott and Kira hopefully getting a room, but he didn’t want to hurt the brunette’s feelings. “I think they went to get some incredibly terrible for you food to eat.” He smiled back at Lydia. “You guys hungry?”

Allison shook her head, glancing toward the entrance. “No, I’m not. I could hold the lanes if you guys wanted to get something though.”

Lydia studied Allison for a minute to make sure her friend was okay and when the brunette's eyes stayed on the doorway she knew she was at least for the moment. So, Lydia turned to Stiles and looped her arm through his. “Buy me a pretzel?” She asked while turning him in the direction of the food.

Like he could say no to that. He smiled at her, nodding. “You got it.” They walked together in the direction of the food stand and Stiles glanced at her sideways. “How’s your day been so far?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Lydia shrugged, “It’s been okay,” she had missed Stiles. It was the first day in a while that they’d spent apart. She hadn’t seen him since earlier that morning at breakfast. It sounded ridiculous even to her that she’d miss him after only part of a day. But apparently that was happening now. “I got a bag together with my stuff, it’s in the car,” she told him as she glanced at him. “How was your day with Scott?”

“It’s been good. I mean, it’s been awhile since it was just the two of us hanging out at his place.” Read: Isaac was around. All. The. Time. He rubbed the back of his neck. “We didn’t get a lot of work done, though. Just talked a lot. And I think he’s pretty into Kira.” He couldn’t help but grin, glancing over to where Scott and Kira were talking quietly in the corner. He refocused on Lydia when his brain caught up with the fact that she’d brought a bag. “Okay, cool.”

Lydia glanced over at Scott and Kira and made a noise in the back of her throat before sighing. “I don’t know why everyone thinks the new girl is so great,” she said, her gaze jumping back to Stiles. “So she’s a little smart and kind of pretty...Big deal.” Lydia didn’t know why Kira rubbed her the wrong way.

She seemed like a nice girl and yet Lydia couldn’t bring herself to stop being mildly rude whenever she spoke to or about her. It was ridiculous and petty and that so wasn’t her anymore and yet...Lydia sighed and glanced at Stiles when he didn’t say anything. “What?”

Stiles was silent for a moment, then he glanced at her, chewing his lower lip and detouring them away from the concession stand and toward the exit wordlessly. He kept his arm wrapped around hers, though. He pushed the door open, pausing when he spotted Isaac and Derek climbing out of Derek’s car. “Well, I didn’t see that coming.”

Lydia’s eyes widened, “Is that Derek with Isaac?” She didn’t even know he knew where the bowling alley was

“Looks like,” Stiles confirmed, watching as the two werewolves approached. He wasn’t sure what to think about Derek’s sudden return to town. When he and Cora had left, Stiles had been sure that was the last they’d ever see or hear from either Hale, and he’d always had mixed feelings about that. It wasn’t like he and Derek were actually friends. Half the time their relationship was about as antagonistic as it got. The other half they were saving each other’s lives.

Something occurred to Lydia as she glanced around, “Why are we outside?” She asked turning to Stiles as Isaac and Derek continued walking in their direction.

“I’ll explain later.” He gave Lydia’s arm a squeeze.

Derek arched an eyebrow at their words. “You know we can hear you, right?” He asked as he came to a stop in front of Stiles and Lydia. Derek knew this was probably a bad idea. How had he let Isaac talk him into this?

“Yeah, been in the whole werewolf circle of knowledge for awhile now. I know about the super hearing and the super smelling and the whole nine yards,” Stiles responded automatically.

Derek sighed before speaking calmly. “Stiles, Lydia.”

Lydia tilted her head to the side. “Hi,” she said not sure what else to say. She didn’t have a problem with Derek, mostly just his Uncle. He’d never been mean to her, but he also wasn’t exactly that nice to Stiles and she’d been feeling more than a little protective toward him lately.

Isaac offered Lydia a small smile, then fell silent, tense as they waited for Stiles to react. The guy tended to be a wild card.

He stared at Derek for a moment, assessing. Then he cracked a smile. “Welcome back.”

Derek’s lip twitched, “Thanks,” his body let go of some of the tension it had been holding onto. He hadn’t really realized he’d been worried about their reactions until now. But he was glad Stiles was as accepting as Scott. Their opinions mattered even if Derek didn’t want to admit that.

Lydia arched an eyebrow a smile pulling at her lips now that she knew Stiles was fine with things. She let her fingers curl around his arm as she glanced between Derek and Isaac. “We’re going to need another lane. Derek do you bowl?” Before he could answer she waved him off. “Who am talking to, even if you can’t you’ve got the whole werewolf thing.” She said lowering her voice.

“You can be on mine and Stiles team.” She told him matter-of-factly as she glanced at Stiles out of the corner of her eye. “We can use the advantage.” She said a hint of humor on her face. Stiles wasn’t the best bowler, but honestly Lydia didn’t care. She just wanted to include everyone and she didn’t think Allison would want to be with Derek.

Stiles watched as Derek almost smiled and he considered making a crack about how that had never happened before, but he decided to save it for the time being. The guy just got back and it was kind of apparent that he was tense, even if Stiles’ welcome back made him appear a little more relaxed. “Okay point. I don’t have werewolf super powers and neither do you, so Derek can help us kick the rest of their little werewolf asses.” He smirked. “Scott and Kira are getting something to eat before we start.”

Isaac looked between the three of them, finding himself relaxing a little too. It was all kind of weird, the thought that maybe they were all going to get along, but it would be a nice change.

Lydia glanced at Isaac then. “Allison is inside,” she commented, “She’s been looking for you even though she probably won’t admit it,” Lydia added under her breath.

At the mention of Allison, his eyes lit up. “Right, okay. I should go find her.” He headed for the door.

Stiles shook his head a little, keeping his mouth shut for the time being.

Lydia smirked, “Those two are taking their sweet time getting together, though I have a feeling it’s going to happen soon.” She said mostly talking to Stiles before glancing at Derek. “If you want to go in we’ll be right there. You should be able to spot Scott; he’s the one drooling over the new girl.” She said with an eyeroll.

Derek arched a brow. “That’s exactly what this town needs...A new girl.” He said his tone light, no malice behind his words.

Lydia’s gaze darted to Derek. “Exactly what I’ve been saying.” She said still not sure why Kira annoyed her so much.

Derek nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I’ll go find Isaac and Scott.” He said giving them one last nod before moving around them and walking into the bowling alley still trying to figure out how he let himself get conned into coming.

Lydia watched him go and when he disappeared she turned to Stiles, “What’s wrong?” She asked figuring it had to be something since he’d taken her outside to talk.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching as Isaac and Derek both vanished inside the bowling alley. Then he turned his focus to Lydia once more. “Okay, so...that night at the warehouse. When Kira was kidnapped. So she’s not exactly...uh…” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s more to her than meets the eye.” He quickly explained what he’d seen, how Kira had literally wielded electricity like her own personal weapon.

Lydia’s eyes widened. “So she’s something...like what a human power outlet?” She asked her voice low. “That’s why the power outage happened. Whatever she is affected the grid.” She said mostly to herself. “Why didn’t you tell me that night?” She asked meeting Stiles gaze finally. “And why tell me now?” Not that she wanted him to keep it a secret from her...they didn’t do that.

“I don’t know. I don’t think she knows either,” he admitted. “But I’m betting that’s why you’re getting a weird feeling about her.” He winced at her question. “I should have. I think I was just, I don’t know. My mind hasn’t exactly…” He shrugged, looking down. “I don’t know if this will mean anything to you, but I don’t have a bad feeling about her, and every time -- I don’t know, it’s like I sense it, Lydia. Not the way you do, but…” Stiles blew out a breath. “I don’t think she’s evil.”

Lydia ran a hand down Stiles’ arm. “I guess that could be it.” She said with a sigh. “Well I guess being normal is overrated.” She told him lightly. “Is that your way of asking me to give her a chance?” She asked with an arched eyebrow while unconsciously moving into Stiles’ personal space.

“Yeah, kind of,” he admitted softly, meeting her eyes and trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat as she moved closer to him. “She helped me out the other day in school when I fell asleep and...Scott really likes her. I think she’s okay, Lyds.”

Lydia’s expression softened as she watched him for a full minute before speaking. “For you.” She told him softly. “For you I’ll give her a chance.” It was uncanny the things she was willing to do for Stiles, if she was smart she’d never let him know how much power he had over her decision making at least lately anyway.

A smile touched his mouth and without thinking about it, he reached up and tucked some hair behind her ear. “Lydia Martin, you are one awesome woman.” He took her hand again. “Come on. Let’s go kick ass in bowling.”

Lydia’s cheeks warmed, something that didn’t happen often and she let him gently tug her back into the bowling alley. “I need shoes,” she said lightly, “I think I left my purse by Allison. Let me go grab it. Will you wait on line for me?” Lydia gave him a bright smile as she released his hand, “I’ll only be a minute.”

“Yeah, I’ll wait.” He smiled at her, watching her go and exhaling, letting his shoulders drop as he turned to look around and see where everyone else was.

Lydia made her way over to their lanes quickly and spotted Allison, Isaac, and Derek. She arched an eyebrow, “Scott and Kira still aren’t back yet?” She asked and Isaac shook his head. Lydia reached for her purse that was sitting on the chair where she dropped it when they first came in. “I’m never going to get that pretzel,” She said with a shake of her head.

“I’ll grab one for you.” Said Derek.

Lydia turned slowly and arched an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction. “You will?” She asked confused.

Derek nodded. He already needed a break from all the people and while waiting on a line to get food wasn’t exactly away from people, it was away from Allison who had shot more than one glare in his direction since he’d been there. In her defense it was his fault her Mother was no longer alive, at least indirectly.

She could have stayed a werewolf to be with her daughter, but it wasn’t the Argent way. Derek didn’t really feel all that bad though because her Mother was a terrible person who didn’t follow the code that they were supposed to live by, just like Kate.

Derek realized Lydia was still watching him skeptically and he nodded. “I’ll get it and see where Scott is.” He said before shrugging off his leather coat, setting it on the back of one of the chairs, and heading off in the direction of the food stands.

Lydia glanced at Isaac and Allison, “Huh, a few weeks away from Beacon Hills has tamed him. He’s like an adorable overgrown puppy now. Interesting.” She commented while pressing her lips together.

Isaac smirked at her comment, his gaze following Derek as he headed away. “He does seem like he’s sort of a different person now. I mean, he’s still broody, but...he’s actually fixing up his loft. And I don’t know. I think he might be trying.”

Allison pursed her lips, falling silent as she listened to them. Derek was by far not her favorite person on the planet, but she knew he had just as many reasons to dislike her as she had to dislike him. And she didn’t want to make waves. “We’ll see,” she murmured, taking a sip of her drink and moving to go and find a bowling ball.

Lydia bit her lower lip and glanced at Isaac, “You should go make sure she’s okay, I need to get back over to the line.” She lifted her purse and Isaac watched as she walked up the two steps and toward the shoe counter where Stiles was waiting online.

Isaac sighed hesitating for a minute before walking over to Allison. He paused beside her and watched as she looked through the balls. “Hey, you okay?” He asked softly.

She sighed. “Yeah. I’m fine. I just...the history. It’s just hard.” She shut her eyes for a minute, then opened them again, looking at the bowling ball selection and finally choosing a bright blue one.

Isaac placed a hand on the small of her back, “I know,” he said quietly. “No one is asking you to forgive him,” he told her not wanting her to think that because he invited Derek he expected her to be his friend or even be nice really. “I just...I thought it would be a nice gesture. Derek’s far from innocent and he hasn’t always been nice. He handles things erratically at best, but he’s genuinely trying.” He explained.

“So I wanted to include him and show him that everyone deserves a second chance. I mean look at us,” he said with a small grin, “I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be this close without a second chance?”

That earned him a small smile as she looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes. He did have a point there. And it wasn’t like she was innocent in the whole situation either. She couldn’t hold Derek entirely responsible. “Yeah, you’re right. We wouldn’t,” she said softly. “And it is a nice gesture, Isaac. It was really nice of you. You’re a good guy.”

Isaac beamed at her, “You are too,” he paused, “Uh a good girl.” He made a face and scratched the back of his neck. “That sounds weird even though I didn’t mean it in an awkward way. It just doesn’t come out the same as good guy, you know?” He asked flustered. “What I mean is I like the woman you are…” his voice trailed off, “I should probably pick a ball too. Want to be on my team?” He asked as he cleared his throat.

She laughed softly, reaching out and giving his arm a gentle squeeze. He was kind of adorable when he was being awkward. Actually he was always kind of adorable. “Of course I do.”

“Good,” he said as he picked up a plain black ball, “Are you any good?” He asked curiously, “Because I’m not. I’ve never really bowled,” he said in a whispered voice as he spotted Lydia and Stiles making their way toward them. “But uh, maybe we shouldn’t mention that to anyone, you know.” He said as he rocked the ball back and forth between his hands. “These things are light.” He commented.

“That’ because you’re holding a six pound bowling ball,” Lydia said as she sat down and slipped off her heels. “Try one of the ten or twelve pound ones, they might feel better,” she suggested as she pulled on a pair of socks and went about slipping her feet into the bowling shoes before tying the laces up.

Isaac looked down, “Oh, there are different weights?”

Allison grinned. “If you’ve never played, you don’t know if you’re good or not,” she pointed out. “I’m not bad. I’m not the best, but I’m not bad either. And your secret is safe with me.” She winked at him and moved to set the ball down before sitting beside Lydia and slipping her sneakers off and reaching for her own pair of bowling shoes. “You can try different ones until you’ve found one that feels right.” She glanced sideways at her best free and smiled at her.

Lydia returned the smile and glanced over at Stiles. She noticed he already had his shoes on, “Do you want to put the names in the computer?” She asked nodding towards the little table as Isaac continued palming all of the balls on the belt until he found one he liked.

“Sure.” He smiled faintly. “Maybe we can all just...do a practice round before it gets serious.” He scratched the back of his head, glancing at Isaac and then back to Lydia. Even though he was probably the only one who actually needed the practice aside from Kira. But Scott would no doubt pick up the slack for their two-person team.

Lydia arched a brow, “Are you calling me competitive?” She asked as she finished with her shoes and got up walking over to stand beside him. “Because you’d be right.” She said with a smile as she reached out and rested her fingers against his forearm. “But , we’re here to have fun. Besides, I can show you how to throw the ball if you want.” She told him with a smile.

He smirked at her question. “Yeah. And I’m pretty sure you’re not the only one, so.” He swallowed hard at the thought of Lydia showing him how to bowl. He knew how to bowl. He wasn’t great at it, but he wasn’t terrible like Scott used to be. Stiles also wasn’t stupid. He knew what showing him how to bowl entailed and he wasn’t about to turn down that kind of offer. “That’d...yeah that’d be great.”

Lydia grinned, “I like a guy secure enough in his manhood to let me show him how to bowl.” She said squeezing his arm gently before moving around him. “Where is wolf man with my pretzel?” Lydia mumbled.

“Shit. I forgot about the pretzel. Sorry.” Stiles frowned.

“I’m here,” Derek said standing on one side of Scott with Kira on the other side of Scott. “The line was long.” He commented briskly.

Stiles turned when Derek spoke. He was holding a wrapped pretzel and he arched his eyebrows. Somehow he wasn’t entirely surprised that Lydia could talk even Derek Hale into doing her bidding.

Scott chuckled at Derek’s words. “Yeah, so Derek decided to hurry it along.” He held a Soda in one hand and Kira’s hand in the other.

Derek held the wrapped pretzel out to Lydia.

She took it with a smile. “Thank you, Derek.”

He grunted and sat in one of the seats resting his arms on his knees. There had already been more interaction with everyone than he was comfortable with, but Scott had seemed genuinely pleased to see him when he caught up with him in the line. So, Derek figured hanging around for one round of bowling wouldn’t kill him and then he could spend the rest of the night alone.

Stiles glanced at Derek at Scott’s statement. “How’d you move the line along? Did you growl?” He glanced at Lydia. “I bet he growled.” He was grinning.

Lydia glanced at Derek and Derek glared at Stiles. “I didn’t growl in public.” He grumbled sourly.

Scott chuckled, “No it was better than that. A very rare occurrence.” He said as he motioned to an empty seat to see if Kira wanted it.

Kira smiled shyly and sat down in the seat that Scott motioned to, falling silent as she observed all the interactions.

Stiles’ grin brightened at Derek’s glare. As much as he hadn’t realized it until now, he’d missed bantering with the guy. “What’d he do?” he asked, turning to Scott.

Scott looked from Derek to Stiles, “You ready for this? He flirted. Derek Hale flirted. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.” He said thoughtfully, his tone teasing.

“Oh, I have,” Isaac chimed in. “He does it when he’s trying to get his way discretely.” He added.

“Yep, I’ve seen him work the charm like that, too.” Stiles glanced back at Derek and grinned at him. “We broke into the sheriff’s station one time.”

Allison rolled her eyes, shaking her head good-naturedly as they tormented the werewolf, knowing they were trying to get him to relax.

Derek huffed, “I flirt okay. I just do it in my own personal time.” Okay so he didn’t turn on the charm that often, but that was because he didn’t always need it. “Flirting is strategical.” He said as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

Lydia snorted, “Then you’re doing it wrong.” She said with a smile, “Flirting is an art; a honed skill.” Lydia glanced at Kira, “What do you think?” She asked while unwrapping her pretzel, trying to include the other girl in the conversation. She was quiet and Lydia promised Stiles she’d give her a chance.

Kira looked up, caught off guard by the question, eyes wide. “Um.” She looked between Derek and Lydia.

Allison leaned over to the new girl. “It’s probably best to agree with Lydia on this kind of thing. She’s definitely perfected the art of flirting.”

Kira smiled a little and looked at Lydia again. “Yeah. Sounds...right.” She sounded uncertain.

Scott cleared his throat, “Okay, okay I thought we were bowling here. Do we have teams?” He asked as he glanced around counting everyone. “We’ve got an uneven number.” He said as he shifted towards Kira as he glanced at Stiles, “What do you think dude?”

“Derek’s on our team because we need the extra advantage.” He raised his eyebrows, looking at Scott knowingly. “You and Kira and Allison and Isaac, I assume are the other teams.”

Scott let his gaze travel to Isaac and Allison briefly, his friend’s hand brushing against the skin of Allison’s arm. He forced himself not to tense. Things between him and Allison were over. They were friends and that was it. He was moving on hopefully with Kira. So, Scott couldn’t understand why the thought of Isaac touching Allison made him want to mark his territory.

Scott shook his thoughts away and nodded. “The teams sound good, who’s up first?” He asked as he sat beside Kira.

Despite the fact that Scott said it was okay, Stiles knew his friend well enough to know that he was upset, even if he was trying really hard not to be. And that made him tense involuntarily, eying Isaac warily for a moment.

“Us,” Lydia said as she got up and walked over to pick a ball. She glanced at the screen and smirked, “I don’t think Derek is going to appreciate that.” She said as she read the names on the screen.

Stiles heard Lydia’s comment and stifled a smirk, not about to turn and look at Derek. He moved and sat down next to Scott, patting his shoulder before watching Lydia take her turn.

Scott sent Stiles a grateful look before his eyes also went to the redhead knowing she was good from the last time they all bowled together.

Lydia slid her fingers into the ball, took a few steps forward, and got into position. She bent her knees slightly and pulled her arm back before thrusting it forward and releasing the ball in a perfect arch. It hit the alley and slid down the middle ramming smack into the middle pin knocking all of them down at once.

Lydia grin and bounced as she turned her eyes seeking out Stiles, “Did you see?” She asked brightly.

Stiles gaped, then shook his head. “I don’t know why that surprises me. Of course she’s good at bowling. She’s good at everything,” he mumbled, glancing over at Derek. “You’re up, SW.” He stifled a grin.

“SW?” Isaac asked curiously.

“Sour Wolf,” he responded evenly.

Derek glared at both of them and got up after Lydia stepped back. He glanced at the balls and picked a black one. He moved it around in his hands as he stepped forward. Truth be told Derek hadn’t been bowling since he was a teenager and he had no idea what he was doing. He could feel eyes on his back and he sighed slipping his fingers into the holes before heaving the ball forward.

The ball slammed onto the lane hard, rolled in the middle for a few seconds before sliding to the left until it hit the gutter fell in and rolled in back. He closed his eyes, pursed his lips and let out a short breath before turning around.

Lydia stood there, her mouth opened slightly. “Oh no,” she said, “We severely miscalculated things.” She said.

Stiles hadn’t seen that coming, either. He willed himself not to laugh because that would be mean, and when Scott had told him that Jackson had teased him about sucking at bowling, Stiles had wanted to punch Jackson in the face. Of course, Stiles had almost always wanted to punch Jackson in the face, so he supposed that was part for the course.

He watched as Derek moved to retrieve the ball from the machine a moment later. “Come on, Big Guy. You can do it.” He gave him the thumbs up and a bright smile.

Kira leaned back in the seat. “I’m not good at this either,” she said helpfully. “I’ve never played before today.”

Derek lifted his ball and glanced over his shoulder at the small girl near Scott. He sent her half a smile for her encouragement before once again glaring Stiles.

Lydia cleared her throat, “Bend your legs a little and don’t pull your arm back so far. You’re throwing with too much force,” she offered.

Derek turned flashing his eyes at her.

Lydia arched an eyebrow. “You better not flash those baby blues at me or you’re going to be in trouble.” She said matter-of-factly.

Derek blinked and turned back around looking properly chastised.

Stiles brought his hand to his mouth and coughed to cover up a chuckle at the chastised look on Derek’s face. He looked up at Lydia, grinning.

Derek huffed and followed Lydia’s direction. The ball sailed down the lane and knocked into the pins on the right side knocking several down, but not all of them.

Stiles looked away from Derek and rose to his feet moving over to Lydia. “You really are something,” he said lightly. He was fairly sure that was going to earn him another glare from Derek, but he didn’t really care. The guy’s default expression was a glare. It wasn’t like Stiles was scared of him anymore. Mostly.

“See? You’re getting better already,” Kira encouraged, smiling shyly and looking at Scott.

Scott smiled, “Derek has a pretty impressive learning curve, like all of us. I think you’re after Stiles, do you remember what I showed you?” He asked noticing Derek watching them out of the corner of his eye.

She nodded, twisting a silver ring on her finger as she met his eyes. “I remember. I think.” At least she hoped she did.

Stiles picked up the ball he’d selected and sent it sailing down the lane. It knocked down four pins and he grimaced. Awesome. Way to impress Lydia, he thought, sighing inwardly. Not that he’d been expecting to get a strike, but six would have been a better number to knock down.

Lydia watched Stiles for a minute before getting up and walking over to where he was waiting for his ball. She ran a hand down his arm, “You’re tense,” she said softly, “You need to relax.” Lydia moved around him so she was standing in front of him. “Just focus on me and pretend I’m the only one here. She reached out and rested her hand against his stomach, “You’re doing good.” Lydia said as she met his gaze.

He let out a breath, then swallowed hard as her hand dropped to his stomach. He nodded wordlessly, heart beating faster, the way it always did when she touched him. He tried not to think about the three werewolves nearby who had super hearing, who were undoubtedly listening in to that fact, as well as their conversation. Awkward. “Thanks.”

Lydia stepped back and went back to her seat. She sat down and gnawed on her bottom lip. The feel of eyes on her made her glance to her left and when she spotted Derek watching her she arched an eyebrow at him. “What?”

Derek shook his head. “You seem different. Closer with Stiles.” He observed.

Lydia felt her cheeks warm and she tried not to huff. She wished her face would stop doing that to her. She wasn’t the blushing kind of girl. It was strange. She shrugged. “He’s been helping me adjust to the whole Banshee thing,” she offered without much detail.

Derek nodded and hesitated, “If you ever want to know more Peter and I both know a bit about your kind. We’ve got written books just like the Argents.” He explained.

Lydia glanced at him surprised, “I’ll think about it,” she said as Scott called out to Stiles telling him he could do it. Even Isaac awkwardly joined in.

Stiles shook his head slightly, vaguely amused and glanced over his shoulder at Scott, grinning wryly and then stepping forward to roll the ball down the lane, an excited, “YES!” escaping him when he polished off the remaining pins. He turned around to face the others, beaming.

Kira laughed softly at his excitement and rose to her feet, walking nervously to the ball return and picking up hers. She forced herself to focus on the aisle, trying to remember exactly the way Scott had instructed her and watched as all but one of the pins fell. She stared, stunned. “Oh.”

Allison raised her eyebrows and looked at Scott. “I thought she said she was bad at this.” Her voice was light, teasing.

Lydia titled her head to the side. “Next time Scott and Kira are on our team,” she said making Isaac laugh. Even Derek cracked half a smile.

Scott grinned proud that she’d done so well. He got up to get his ball ready as Kira went to throw her next ball.

Stiles moved over and dropped down on the seat between Lydia and Allison. He glanced at the brunette beside him and offered her a small smile. “How are you at bowling, Argent?” he teased.

“Not bad,” she assured him with a smirk. “We’ll definitely kick your butts. Right Isaac?” She nudged Isaac lightly.

Isaac glanced over at Allison and his brows drew together, “Uh, yeah,” he said but the uncertainty was clear in his voice. He wanted to impress Allison, but he had no clue how to bowl. Hopefully he wasn’t as bad as the rest of the guys.

Lydia leaned forward and grinned. “I smell fear,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

Isaac froze and glanced around his eyes darting between Allison, Stiles, Lydia and Derek. “Is that a Banshee thing?” He asked his brows in his hairline.

Allison patted his knee lightly. “It’s a Lydia thing,” she assured him.

Kira returned to her seat a moment later, watching intently as Scott stepped up to the aisle and holding her breath. “Come on, Scott,” she whispered under her breath.

Lydia’s gaze shifted to Kira as she watched the other girl watch Scott intensely.

A grin pulled at Scott’s lips as he heard Kira’s whispered words. He liked that she was rooting for him. He took a step toward the lane and focused his energy on the lane. His eyes turned red momentarily as he threw the ball and went back to normal as he released it. The ball traveled down the lane and crashed into the pins knocking them all down.

He turned and grinned his gaze meeting Kira’s briefly before he went to grab his ball.

Kira smiled at him brightly, eyes shining. “Good job!”

“Show off,” Stiles said with a teasing smirk, obvious pride in his eyes that contradicted his words.

Isaac pursed his lips. “It figures I’d be after him,” he said with a sigh, “This isn’t doing anything for that self-esteem of mine.” He commented under his breath as Scott threw yet another strike. He really was all around second best.

Scott came over and sat next to Kira, “You guys are up.” He said to Allison and Isaac with a good-natured smile.

“Come on, Isaac.” Allison sat forward in her seat, glancing sideways at Scott and looking nervous.

Isaac stood and walked over to grab a ball remembering what Lydia had said earlier about them. He picked a green one and walked up to the lane. He had watched Scott and Stiles, even Derek so he could try and get the hang of things before going up there. Hopefully it worked.

Isaac pulled back his arm and let go of the ball. It knocked down five pins and he grinned. He was just glad it knocked down something. “Not bad for a non-bowler,” he said with a smile as he walked over to get his ball.

Allison smiled at him, clapping her hands in approval. “Good job!”

“Try just a little to the left this time. Not a lot, just a little. You can probably take the rest out that way,” Stiles advised.

Lydia was surprised Stiles spoke up to Isaac, but glad. There was obviously a weird tension between the two of them and she was glad Stiles was trying to work it out.

Isaac lifted his ball back up and walked to the lane again. He took Stiles’ advice, the only kind he’d ever offered, and rolled it this time a little towards the left. Lo and behold it slammed into the rest of the pins knocking them all down. Isaac grinned, “Nice,” he said as he made his way back over to the group. He glanced at Stiles, “Thanks,” he said with a hesitant smile.

Stiles grinned when Isaac knocked over the rest of the pins, because Scott grinned when he made the spare. “Good job, Man,” he told Isaac, looking up at him when Isaac walked back over.

Allison raised her eyebrows, also surprised by Stiles’ sudden change in demeanor toward Isaac. She looked at Lydia curiously.

Lydia caught Allison’s gaze and smiled. “This is nice, we don’t get to do stuff like this a lot.” She said lightly because it was true. They didn’t get to be teenagers often. She leaned into Allison, “Stiles and I talked.” She said with half a smile. Lydia wanted her friend to be happy and she didn’t want Isaac to feel like an outsider for Allison’s sake.

At that, the brunette smiled a genuine smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“I’m gonna go get a soda. Anyone want anything while I’m up?” Stiles asked, glancing around.

Scott glanced over, “Can you get me a hot dog man?” For some reason he was starving. They’d been at the bowling alley for a while and he’d been hungry since he’d gone up for the soda earlier.

Lydia lifted her half eaten pretzel and took another bite. She chewed and swallowed, “I’m good.” She said with a smile.

Isaac looked up, “I’ll take a soda if you don’t mind,” he told Stiles keeping his tone casual. Things seemed to be going okay with him and Stiles and he didn’t want to ruin it.

“One hot dog and one soda. Regular or …?” Stiles arched his eyebrows, not sure what kind of soda Isaac liked to drink. Everyone else he already knew, but truth be told, he hadn’t paid that much attention to the things that Isaac liked and disliked.

Isaac shrugged, “Regular’s fine. I’m not picky.” He told Stiles as he nudged Allison with his leg.

Allison smiled softly, pleased the two finally seemed to be getting along in a civil, almost friendly kind of way. She nudged Isaac back, watching as Stiles headed away to the concession stand. “That seems to be going better today,” she murmured to him.

Isaac nodded, “It does,” he let his fingers brushed gently against hers, “I didn’t think he was ever going to come around. I’m glad I was wrong though.” He lifted an arm around the back of Allison’s chair and glanced over at Scott and Kira talking softly. “They seem friendly,” he commented quietly.

“She seems nice,” Allison remarked, watching the two of them even as a faint pang tugged at her. Momentary regret, no doubt. But it was for the best. She was moving on and so was Scott, and that’s how it was supposed to be.

Lydia watched Scott go for Stiles since he was still at the concession stand. When SW popped up she reached over and tapped Derek to get his attention. He got up and she leaned back her seat watching as everyone egged him on. She smiled and she was pretty sure she caught a crack of a smile on Derek’s face too, which was surprising, but not unwelcome. Everyone seemed to be having a good time and she was glad that their little group was finally getting along.


	9. Chapter 9

Lydia sat in the jeep beside Stiles, her compact in her hand as she slid her finger below her eye makeup, fixing her eyeliner. It was Sunday afternoon and three days until the full moon. Everyone was getting ready for the ritual that was going to take place at Deaton’s office. Scott had talked to Deaton earlier that morning and he said he was only waiting on one other thing he needed for the ritual and they’d be set.

In the meantime Lydia couldn’t stop thinking about what Derek had said while they were at the bowling alley last night. He knew about Banshee’s so did Peter, though Lydia didn’t exactly want to spend much time with the older Hale. She did however want to know what Derek had to say. In order to understand herself and what she was capable of Lydia needed to know more about her banshee roots.

Lydia closed the compact and tossed it in her purse before sending a sideways glance at Stiles. “You’re quiet.” She commented.

“Yeah, sorry.” He glanced at her sideways then focused on the road ahead, exhaling slowly. He’d slept off and on the night before, nightmare free, but he kept waking up because his mind was on the upcoming ritual. About how Lydia and the others were going to be putting themselves on the line for him and it made him really uncomfortable. What they were doing now also made him a little uncomfortable, if he was being honest with himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek -- okay maybe he didn’t entirely trust Derek. But he was worried about what this meeting was going to do to Lydia. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked softly.

Lydia reached out a hand and rested in on Stiles leg. It was clear that he was worried about her. But she needed to do this. She needed to know what Derek knew. He seemed to know more about the supernatural things that happened in Beacon Hills than anyone else excluding maybe Deaton. “Yes,” she said softly, “I need to know. And this could help us. If I can control this thing then maybe I can help more people.” Lydia wanted to help people like Stiles and Scott; she didn’t want people to get hurt.

He wasn’t the least bit surprised by her answer. Anyone on the outside of their pack might have believed her to be a cold-hearted bitch. But he’d always known it was an act that she put on. He hadn’t always known or understood the reasons, but over the years, he’d seen her say and do things that didn’t fall in the realm of cold hearted bitch. The last couple years he’d gotten to see that side of her more and more and it warmed his heart to know that he’d been right about her all along. If there was one thing that Stiles actually had going for him, it was his instincts about people.

Wordlessly, he reached down and covered her hand with his own, giving it a gentle squeeze as he nodded. They made the rest of the drive in silence and when he pulled up in front of Derek’s apartment building, he shifted his jeep into the park position and shut off the engine. He turned his head to look at her, offering her a small but worried smile. “All right.”

Lydia swallowed hard as she looked at the apartment building and then back at Stiles. “You’re coming right?” She asked as she unbuckled her seat belt and pushed open the car door. She didn’t have a way to get in touch with Derek, so he didn’t know they were coming. But Lydia figured Derek didn’t really do much with his time so he was probably home.

“Of course.” He was almost offended at the insinuation that he was going to wait in the jeep. There wasn’t much he could do, but he did at least want to go with her, to be there for moral support the way she kept being for him. He climbed out of the jeep and waited at the front of it for her before they headed into Derek’s building together.

Lydia walked with Stiles and when they came to a stop in front of Derek’s loft door she almost turned around and went right back the way they had come, but that wasn’t who she was. She straightened up, her heart beating wildly as she lifted her hand to knock on the door. But before her knuckles connected with the metal of the door it was jerked open with a forceful jolt.

Lydia stepped back as a glowing eyed Derek greeted them and then paused his expression changing as he saw who was standing there. Derek loosened his grip and stepped back with an arched eyebrow. “Stiles, Lydia...Is everything okay? Is it Scott?” He asked worry creasing his brow.

“Nope, Scott’s fine,” Stiles told him, arching his eyebrows as he let one hand rest at the small of Lydia’s back, not really thinking about the gesture. “We were hoping you could tell us about that thing you mentioned yesterday. You know, the banshee stuff.” He chewed the inside of his cheek, glancing sideways at Lydia and then back at Derek.

A hint of surprise crossed Derek’s face as his gaze traveled over to Lydia. “I can do that.” He said simply, “If it’s something you’re ready to hear.” He told her.

Lydia gave Derek a sharp nod. “I am. I need to know what I am...how it works and I’d rather talk to you than Peter.” She said relaxing into Stiles light touch.

Derek glanced between them, “I’ll take that as a compliment I guess,” he said as he pulled the door open wider and stepped aside. “It’s good that you’re both here then. Because what I have to say involves both of you.” He told them as he nodded for them to come inside.

At that, Stiles blinked a couple of times and raised his eyebrows. Okay that was kind of an odd thing for Derek to say. He supposed he just meant that he knew Stiles cared about Lydia and vice versa, and they were all part of Scott’s pack, and maybe there was something Stiles was going to be able to do to help Lydia deal with her abilities and what she was, the way he’d helped Scott. He eyed Derek sideways as he stepped inside the man’s loft, taken aback by the changes Derek had made since the last time Stiles had been there.

He actually had pictures hanging up. He wondered if Derek was feeling okay.

Lydia stepped inside after Stiles and arched a brow, “Wow, you’ve actually done something with the place. I’m shocked.” She said as she glanced around at the still mostly empty apartment. “You need some furniture, possibly a woman’s touch.” She admitted. “I doubt anyone in our little group has better taste than me so whenever you need to pick out furniture you just let us know. I know a nice place.” She commented staying by Stiles.

Lydia talked when she was nervous. Not many people knew that because it always seemed like she was just being a bitch or a smartass, and that was true sometimes. Other times though, she just needed something to do.

A hint of amusement flickered across Derek’s face not only at her offer of help, but at the fact that Lydia and Stiles seemed to be an ‘us’. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Stiles wasn’t quite sure when he’d picked up on all of Lydia’s little quirks, all the things she did when she was nervous, but at some point he’d realized that she talked almost as much as he did when she was on edge, and without thinking about it, he ran a soothing hand down her back. Touching her as a means to comfort her had become practically second nature, and Stiles wasn’t sure that had happened either, or when she’d started allowing it. Everything was kind of blurry.

Derek motioned to the chairs, which were all he had at the moment. “Have a seat. I’ve got some water if either of you want some.” He said as he ran a hand over the back of his neck.

Lydia shook her head, “No thanks,” she said while sitting in one of the seats.

Derek glanced at Stiles with an arched eyebrow.

“I’m good,” he told Derek at the offer of water, moving to sit down in the chair beside Lydia. The older man’s amusement didn’t escape Stiles, either. Not much did usually, but he honestly had no idea what brought on Derek’s this time. He watched him with a hint of confusion on his face.

Derek cleared his throat when he noticed Stiles and Lydia watching him. His hand went to the back of his neck again, a bad habit that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. “Okay...I guess I should probably start from the beginning. I need to grab something, just...give me a minute.” He said gruffly as he walked away from them and moved up the spiral staircase.

Lydia watched him go confusion on her face. She could hear Derek moving around and she glanced at Stiles. “What do you think he’s doing up there?” She asked quietly. Lydia was impatient and she wanted to know what he knew and now.

Stiles blinked, and then he shook his head, looking at Lydia sideways. “I have no idea,” he admitted. And usually he was the first to figure things out, but he wasn’t sure that Derek Hale was ever going to be someone he had figured out.

“He’s such a weird little werewolf,” Lydia said to Stiles as Derek stepped off the last stair with an arched eyebrow.

“I’m hardly little.” He said as he gripped a small wooden box in his hand. He walked over to Stiles and Lydia and sat on the low table that was in front of them. He was silent for a minute trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say.

Stiles smirked at Derek’s comment about being little and had to refrain from making a smart ass comment.

“I’m not sure how much the two of you know about my family. Probably not much.” Derek didn’t talk about them much. Derek didn’t talk about anything much.

Stiles looked curiously at the box he set down, and when he started talking about his family, he eyed the man silently. He knew from Peter -- whom he still didn’t and probably never would trust -- that Deaton had been Derek’s mom’s emissary until she’d died. That he’d stuck around to help Derek though he’d wound up being more help to Scott because Derek didn’t tend to want or accept any sort of help most of the time.

“Deaton worked side-by-side with my Mother and so did a few other people managing the supernatural community. I guess that’s what it was, I was young.” He sighed and stopped attempting to explain that part. Derek wasn’t good with long explanations. He needed to get to the point. “One of those people was your sister Elizabeth.” He said quietly as he met Lydia’s gaze.

Lydia’s face paled at his words. “What?”

At the mention of Lydia’s sister Stiles’ mouth drop open. “Wait, what?”

Derek glanced between them and reached for the box again. He opened it up and pulled out a woman’s necklace. On the end was a pendant. On one side it held the Hale family Triskelion and on the other side was an old world etching of a woman, long hair whipping in front of her face as if there was a strong wind, mouth open and long dress billowing around her.

He held it up, “Do you recognize this?” He asked watching Lydia closely.

Lydia sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes turning glassy as she hesitated for a second before reaching for it. As soon as her fingers closed over the delicate chain Derek released it in her hands. Lydia brought it closer and her chest tightened. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “This is my sisters, this is Eliza’s.” It was a nickname, something she’d called her that no one else had. It was their thing as kids.

Stiles looked between Derek and Lydia before his gaze locked onto the pendant on the necklace. He recognized the Hale family symbol, and there was something vaguely familiar about the other as well, but he couldn’t quite place it yet. He saw the moment that Lydia’s mask began slipping, though, and he reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder before looking back at Derek.

“So your mom...and Deaton...knew Lydia’s sister?” And Lydia’s sister had clearly been involved in the supernatural, and it only took him a second longer to put the rest of the pieces together. “Elizabeth was a banshee.” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement of realization.

Derek looked away from Lydia and at Stiles. “Yes, she was. She protected our family.” He explained. “That might be the wrong word. She let us know when we were in danger.” He corrected. “Banshee’s are...special. We found out your sister was one when she was bitten by someone from a visiting pack and turned out to be immune.” Derek’s gaze traveled back to Lydia giving her a minute to take that in.

“Wait, my sister was bitten by a werewolf?” Lydia asked as her hand clenched around the necklace. “What is with you people and trying to munch on my family?” She snapped, but she wasn’t mad a Derek, she was surprised and thrown and so many different things at once. And it was hard hearing that Eliza was part of all of this too.

Stiles was struggling to process what Derek was saying because it wasn’t making sense in his brain. Lydia’s sister had been immune to the bite the same way that Lydia was immune to the bite.

Derek arched an eyebrow and glanced between them. “Elizabeth didn’t know she was a banshee and neither did we until she was bitten. Deaton was actually the one who told my mother about Banshee mythology,” he explained before glancing at Lydia.

“I didn’t realize, when you were immune to Peter’s bite, I didn’t make the connection then. I didn’t know you were Elizabeth’s sister so the thought that you could be a banshee never occurred to me.” Derek explained honestly. He’s been too caught up in needing power and building his pack to really think clearly.

Lydia frowned, “But I don’t understand. How?” She was so confused. Lydia still didn’t understand how she became a banshee and knowing her sister was one now suggested that being a banshee ran in her family. She shook her head, “This can’t be true.”

Stiles pursed his lips, a troubled expression on his face. This was all leading up to something that he wasn’t very happy to realize. Derek hadn’t put the pieces together until recently, but someone else certainly had. Someone who always seemed to have answers but withheld those answers way more often than Stiles was comfortable with. His jaw tightened ever-so-slightly and he had to take a deep breath to force himself to shove down the anger that was already building.

At the distress in Lydia’s voice, he reached out and laid his hands on her shoulders gently, looking at Derek. “But you guys didn’t know that she was connected to your family until after she was bitten?” He was already trying to form a timeline in his mind.

Derek could see the pain on Lydia’s face and he genuinely felt bad for putting it there. “Correct.” He said as he rested his arms on his legs. “It’s hard to explain because I don’t know the entire story.” He glanced at Lydia, “When I met your sister she had just turned thirteen. I was twelve. I must have met her right after they told her what she was.” He explained.

“I think...I think she was attacked by one of the visiting wolf packs because she was in the woods. Later she told my Mom that something brought her out there, she didn’t know what or who or how she even got there.” He explained, “Sound familiar?” The difference was Lydia had those after the bite, but it was almost as if someone had lured her sister out there. But Derek couldn’t be sure.

Lydia opened her mouth and then closed it before pursing her lips. “She had blackouts like me, like when I started finding the bodies.” She whispered, “But she was so young...and what about my parents? And how did it start?” The questions all came pouring out of her mouth. She leaned into Stiles touch convinced it was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment.

Derek pushed himself up and stepped away from them trying to calm his own inner demons as she frantically asked him questions. “Lydia...I don’t know the answers to those questions. My Mom and Deaton helped Elizabeth with her abilities. They helped her develop them until she learned how to control them.”

Derek scratched the back of his neck, “The day she died...I think maybe, I think she knew it was going to happen. She gave me that necklace, told me to keep it safe. I don’t know why I kept it. We were friends, things were different then.” His expression was pained.

This was all getting way weirder than Stiles had anticipated when they’d talked about coming to talk to Derek to find out what he knew. He was feeling more than a little uneasy about everything the guy was saying. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Derek, because he did, but he was feeling overwhelmed by the information, and if he was feeling overwhelmed by the information, he knew Lydia had to be feeling way worse.

“Do you know if Lydia’s parents knew anything about what was going on with Elizabeth?” His initial feeling was no, because surely they would have been keeping a closer eye on Lydia than they’d been doing for awhile and he felt a surge of protectiveness, squeezing her shoulders gently.

Derek shook his head. “But I still have the book on Banshee lore, their origins. You are connected to us somehow and you’re connected to a specific family of humans.” Derek said his gaze slowly darting over to Stiles.

Stiles sighed, and then contemplated what Derek had said about Lydia being connected to his family, which wasn’t a huge surprise, but he did wonder if Peter had known when he’d bitten Lydia. If that had been part of his plan all along, to awaken her inner banshee or however it worked. But he frowned when Derek mentioned her being connected to a family of humans. He shook his head. “What do you mean? What family?”

Derek glanced between Stiles and Lydia and he could practically feel the tension pouring from both of them. He sighed. Derek held up a hand. “According to the lore, every banshee is connected to a specific human bloodline. Their cries are for the members of that family. They sense other things also,” he explained to Stiles, “But, it’s complicated.” Derek paused, “The day Lydia’s sister died, she cried for someone. There were only two people who died on that day in Beacon Hills.” He said his voice quiet.

Though he wasn’t sure why, Stiles’ heart skipped a beat at how quiet Derek’s voice had gotten. Derek was never this soft spoken and it was starting to freak him out more than a little, and he swallowed hard. “O...kay?”

Derek hated emotions. No, that sounded wrong. He hated dealing with overly emotional teenagers. He took a step back as Lydia’s eyebrow rose. They were waiting on him. He took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “Claudia Stilinski and Elizabeth Martin died within five minutes of each other.” He said quietly. “It’s something you can probably verify with your Father, something he most likely hasn’t even realized. I think...I think it’s the reason Deaton chose Lydia to be your anchor,” Scott had filled him in on the process and the ritual. It made sense the way he paired people up.

A soft gasp fell from Lydia’s throat and her head jerked in Stiles direction. “No...that can’t, But,” her voice broke not sure what to say. Could that have happened? Could her sister really have known Stiles Mom was going to die? Logically she knew it could. Afterall Lydia was convinced her scream was for Stiles and look where that had gotten them now.

All the color drained from Stiles’ face and he stared at Derek, opening his mouth to speak, but no sound escaped him. It felt like he’d actually been punched in the gut, like he’d lost his ability to breathe. What he was saying made sense on some level, but it was also too much for him to actually process at the moment. He lifted a hand, rubbing it over his face and turning away, walking toward the window as his heart thudded hard in his chest.

Lydia’s sister had predicted his mother’s death.

Truth be told, he felt a bubble of laughter welling up within him, but it wasn’t the joyful kind of laughter. It was the hysterical kind and he pressed his hand to his mouth to keep the terrible sound -- and it would be a terrible sound if it escaped -- from escaping. He felt like he had that day in class not that long ago when Mr. Yukimura had requested he get up from his seat and read a section of history to the class and he hadn’t been able to read anything. He felt dizzy, disoriented, like the world had literally rocked underneath him and he couldn’t quite find his balance.

Something inside Lydia shifted and she felt a wave of extreme panic run through her. Lydia’s hand thrust out and gripped the arm of the chair. Confusion crossed her face and she saw Derek take a hesitant step forward.

But when the feeling dissipated seconds later her gaze darted to Stiles. It was him she was feeling. Lydia moved quickly navigating Derek’s apartment until she reached Stiles. She slid a hand up his back until it curled around his shoulder. “Stiles,” she whispered she searched for the right words, but they didn’t come. “You’re not alone.” She said finally squeezing his shoulder trying to get him to turn around and face her.

His eyes were a little wild when he turned to look at her, vision blurry from unshed tears. This was not okay. None of this was okay. He didn’t know how to even begin processing what Derek had just told them. Truthfully, Stiles had always felt a connection to Lydia, ever since they were kids, but he’d brushed it off as part of a stupid crush. Was it more than that? Derek seemed to think so. What were they supposed to do with this information? Stiles usually liked figuring things out, finding the answers, solving the mysteries.

But this involved his mother. His mother that he’d watched slowly die in a hospital day after day. He could still feel her hand growing cold as he clutched onto it after the doctors had turned the machines off that night.

And his dad.

His dad had been with Lydia’s sister while she died that same night. Tears spilled down his face but he quickly swiped his hand over his eyes, embarrassed and confused, chest tight.

Lydia shook her head and then gripped his cheeks gently. “Don’t hide from me,” she said her own eyes shining with tears. She was quiet for a minute, “We’re going to get going Derek, thank you for talking to us.” She said in a shaky voice knowing Stiles wouldn’t want to be here of all places when he finally let himself go. “Stiles, let’s go home...come on.” She said as she brushed her thumb against his cheek.

Stiles shut his eyes, letting out a shaky breath when she spoke. He just nodded silently, grateful for her perceptiveness. It wasn’t that he didn’t like or trust Derek, but he didn’t even want to cry in front of Lydia, let alone the former-alpha werewolf. He was only half with it when Lydia guided him toward the door that would lead them out of Derek’s loft. He felt numb, like he was outside his body watching and listening to everything that was happening.

It wasn’t a good feeling at all.

Derek gripped Lydia’s shoulder gently stopping her movements and when she glanced over her shoulder he pursed his lips and held the box out to her. “The necklace and the book. So you can understand.” He told her his voice gruff.

Lydia watched Derek for a second before nodding and taking it in her free hand. She continued guiding Stiles out of the loft and into the poorly lit hallway. Today hadn’t been what she expected and so close to the anniversary of her sister’s death...and Stiles’ Mom. Her grip tightened on him as the sound of Derek shutting the door reverberated in the hallway. “It’s going to be okay, I know it doesn’t feel like it, but we’ll be okay.” Lydia said again her voice sounding odd to her own ears as she gripped Stiles with one hand and the box with the other.

He wanted to believe that. Wanted it more than just about anything. But now, somehow, he was going to have to find a way to explain to his dad how much more entwined with the supernatural their lives were, and had always been. And he had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to do that.

______

 

It had been a long afternoon. The drive back to his house from Derek’s had been silent, though Lydia had held onto his arm the entire time. He was grateful for her presence, grateful for the silent support even though he knew she needed it just as much as he did. When they’d gotten back to his house, they’d eaten soup for lunch, mostly because it was all either of them could stomach. Then they’d worked quietly on homework for part of the day at the kitchen table, abandoning it the latter half of the day for his room.

Finally, when he couldn’t focus another minute on the words in his economics book, he shut it and tossed it onto the floor by his bag, flopping down on his bed and rubbing a hand over his face. They hadn’t talked about it since they’d left Derek’s. They each needed their own time to process everything, and Stiles honestly wasn’t sure that a lifetime of processing would actually be enough time.

“We should probably talk about it.” His voice was barely audible.

Lydia glanced up from her science homework, the questions that normally took her only minutes to answer, not seeming to even register in her head tonight. She was lying on her stomach on his bed, feet up in the air behind her. Lydia considered his words as she slipped the notebook into the textbook and closed the heavy book on top of the paper to keep her page for later.

Unfortunately homework was still due even when supernatural creatures were trying to kill your friends and long lost truths came bubbling to the surface. Lydia nodded, “We should.” The problem was she didn’t know what to say. Things between her and Stiles had been changing lately and a part of her now was questioning whether those changes had to do with who they were or what she was. “I,” she paused hesitating for some reason.

“It doesn’t seem real,” Lydia told him finally, “And yet it makes so much sense.”

It definitely didn’t seem real, and part of him was disappointed in himself for not having made the connection that his mother and her sister had died on the same night eight years before. Research was what he did. It was his contribution to their little group, or pack as Scott called it. Way to miss the big flashing neon sign in the rearview mirror, Stilinski, he thought tiredly. “It’s...really weird,” he murmured, looking over at her, expression more vulnerable than usual.

“I didn’t see it coming.” His voice grew even quieter.

“Me either,” Lydia said her voice just as soft. She had no idea her sister was involved in all of this or that she knew Deaton and Derek’s Mother. She’d been a child, and now that she thought about it she remembered her sister coming home more than once with cuts and bruises, things she’d made Lydia promise were their little secret.

Lydia’s chest tightened, “I don’t know what this means...for me, for you...and for the pack.” She said her gaze falling to the comforter. It had been so long since she really delved into her feelings about her sister. So long since she brought out those feelings of loss, anger, and pain. But now, it was like she felt it tenfold. Like something or someone was crushing her chest. “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry about your Mom, about whatever part my sister had and…” Lydia’s voice cut off and she sat up before standing and taking a deep breath.

“I have this horrible ball of guilt just building inside my chest,” she said her hand balling up and pressing against said spot, “Because after everything that happened today one of the only things I can think is what if you and I aren’t okay.” She said voicing her fears.

“I’m so completely selfish, I thought, I thought that was changing, but apparently not.” She said with a humorless laugh as she pushed herself off of Stiles’ bed and stood, distress clear on her face even eyes tears threaten to fall at the slightest provocation.

“Lydia, no,” he interrupted, shaking his head vehemently. “No, listen to me. Your sister didn’t -- she didn’t cause anything, okay?” His face was stricken as he turned so he was facing her. “You haven’t either. You haven’t caused any of this.” He quickly got to his feet, too, reaching out and grasping her arm with one hand, gentle but firm. “God.” He exhaled, reaching out and pulling her to him without another thought and burying his face in her hair.

“My mom...she didn’t die from something supernatural, okay?” His voice was strained, and it was a combination of seeing her so near tears and just the general amount of stress that was compiling in their lives, threatening to drown them both. Drown them all. “It wasn’t like that.” He shut his eyes. “She...she had a rare form of dementia. It was -- it was awful and slow and…” He couldn’t find the words anymore and he couldn’t stop his own rambling because she had to understand that her sister hadn’t done anything to hurt his mother that Lydia wasn’t responsible for anything that had happened.

“Listen. It was the most horrible thing I lived through, but it was completely...look it was just...natural.” He shuddered at the word because it hadn’t felt natural, losing his mother when he was eight. Nothing about it felt natural or right or like it was what was supposed to happen. “She was just really sick.” He felt a tear roll down his cheek and he pulled away to look at her.

“Elizabeth didn’t do anything to make it happen.” He knew that much in his heart. “And you haven’t done anything to hurt anyone so please don’t think we’re not okay, Lydia, because...god, okay, you’re like–” He swallowed hard. “You’re pretty much my only friend beside Scott, okay? We’re fine. Everything between us is fine on my side of things, so don’t even worry about that.”

Stiles’ words broke her, everything Lydia had been holding in since all of this crazy entered her life was pushed to the surface and she couldn’t contain in this time. Her arms tightened around him, her tears trailing down her cheeks as she held onto him as tight as she could. She hated hearing the pain in his voice, the confusion and yet Lydia could see that all Stiles wanted to do was reassure her. Even through his own pain.

No one had ever put her first the way he did. And he did it a lot. Even before they were friends and even before she acknowledged his existence. “No one should have to go through that,” she said her voice muffled by his neck and shoulder. “You and your Dad, you shouldn’t have had to deal with that and I’m so sorry you did, I can’t imagine how painful it must have been.”

Lydia pressed herself tighter against Stiles, “Sometimes when I was growing up I used to wish my sister’s death wasn’t so quick. I always thought she was alone and scared and none of us got to say goodbye.” She swallowed heavily shifting back enough to see Stiles face. “I was angry and in pain and I just wanted her back, but,” Lydia sucked in breath one of her hands sliding down Stiles’ chest, “Now I know...I’d never wish that on anyone.”

Stiles swallowed hard as she held onto him more tightly and he shut his eyes. She was right, of course. No one should have to go through losing their mom like that, at such an early age. He’d be lying if he tried to say he wasn’t angry or bitter over it to this day, but for the most part it just hurt. It hurt in a way that nothing else really could. He said nothing for a moment and she continued talking.

“I just don’t want to be bad...I want to help people, I want to be good and I don’t want to ever wonder if what I am is dangerous to the people I love. Derek said Elizabeth knew she was going to die, that he thought she felt it, so why didn’t she say anything? Why didn’t she come to us? Or to the pack? Was she as afraid of what she was as I am? There are all these questions and then there’s us.” She whispered.

“How much of our connection is us and how much is it something else? Our lives...they’re so much more entwined than I thought and I...what does that mean?” She asked searching his face quietly.

It took Stiles a moment to realize something when she began to talk about her sister, a niggling fact that his dad had told him in a rush of sobbing apologies the same night. “Lydia.”

He drew in a shaky breath. “She wasn’t alone. My dad...he was with her that night. He stayed with her.” He reached up, brushing a tear off her cheek with the pad of his thumb, but at the mention that she was afraid she was bad, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Listen to me, Lyds,” he whispered.

One of his hands came up to thread through her strawberry blond hair. “You’re not evil. Remember, I’m like an evil detector, okay? There’s not a damn thing evil about you, I promise.” He considered her words about their friendship, their connection. “I don’t have any answers for those questions, but...look this is part of who you are. It isn’t...like a separate entity. It’s just one more layer in this incredibly beautiful, incredibly complex puzzle named Lydia Martin.” He managed a watery smile.

“So it doesn’t matter if we’re friends because we chose it or it chose us. All that matters is that we are.”

Lydia stood there in awe of Stiles. No one in her life saw things the way he did. No one saw her the way he did. He always knew what to say to make whatever was bothering her better. He never doubted her, always gave her the benefit of the doubt when it came to anything and everything. He didn’t let her get carried away with ‘what ifs’, thankfully because god knows she could go on with them.

Lydia didn’t know what she’d ever done to deserve someone like Stiles in her life, but she was grateful for him every second of everyday, which was why the thought of losing him terrified her so much. He was a good guy, the best kind of guy. And knowing that his Father had stayed with her sister...it put to rest some of the guilt that had lingered inside of her since she was a child.

Lydia opened her mouth her hand curling into his shirt, but she wasn’t sure how to express what she was currently feeling. She didn’t think they made words that strong or that covered so many emotions at once. “I’m sorry he wasn’t with you,” she whispered and she was. Her sister might not have been alone, but that meant Stiles had been and nothing could ever take away the pain that, that probably caused him.

He looked down at her hand for a moment, his chest tightening at her words and for a moment he couldn’t even breathe. He’d been angry with his dad for such a long time because he hadn’t been there, and even though he understood now why he wasn’t, he hadn’t understood it when he was eight years old. Truthfully sometimes it still made him angry. But now, knowing who the crash victim had been, knowing that it was Lydia’s older sister…

Stiles swallowed hard, shaking his head. “He was where he was supposed to be,” he said quietly. “I get that now.” He slid his hand up to cover hers, sliding their fingers together. He shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them once more and looked at her. He hesitated only a second, then let go of her hand and slid his arms around her again, just needing to hug her. To be hugged. They’d both gone through so much and they weren’t even seniors in high school yet.

Lydia returned the hug burying her face against his neck, enjoying the feel of his arms around her. Being in Stiles’ arms was comforting, safe. It felt like...home. Like it was where she belonged and the fact that she’d been too blind or too stupid to see it all this time made her genuinely angry at herself.

Lydia should have seen it years ago. She should have seen it with the looks he sent her way, the valentine’s day cards that always found their way in her little paper mailbox in elementary school, and the way he always tried to get her attention no matter how much she ignored him. Lydia tightened her grip on him, running her hand up and down his back as she stayed in his arms for several minutes.

After a while, Lydia shifted back enough so that she could see Stiles face. She reached up and used her thumb to brush away the tears that had fallen onto his skin. She kept her hand there for a minute, her gaze locked on his. Lydia’s gaze dropped to his mouth.

He smiled softly when she pulled away to look at him but then he watched her gaze drop to his mouth, and involuntarily, his dropped to hers, too.

And then something happened. Lydia felt herself shifting closer to him. Her teeth caught her bottom lip in her mouth and she weighed her options. But in this moment, right now, with Stiles standing in front of her there was really only one thing she wanted to do. And for once Lydia was going to give in to what she wanted. She tilted her head up and carefully brushed her lips against his, the movement soft, hesitant.

His heart skipped a beat as she moved closer and he closed his eyes when she kissed him. It was soft, just barely there, like the tender brush of a feather against his lips.

Lydia did it again, her lips just barely grazing his. They were warm and soft, but she kept the kiss light. She dropped her hand from his face a second later, but it didn’t go far as it rested on the material of his shirt. Lydia stayed where she was waited with baited breath her eyes never leaving his face not sure what his reaction was going to be.

The pressure faded quickly and he drew in a shaky breath, opening his eyes to look at her and wondering what was going on in her mind right then.

Stiles wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say, because he was afraid whatever he did or said would end up being the exact wrong thing. He loved her. He knew that. Had known that for a long time and now that he actually truly knew her? He loved her more than he’d realized possible.

But she’d never really given any indication that her feelings for him went beyond the line of platonic friendship. Maybe even best friendship. But best friends didn’t generally kiss, in his experience. He and Scott didn’t kiss. Maybe it was a girl thing? He really had no idea and he felt like he was flying blind as he tried to read her expression.

“Lydia?” His voice was barely audible. “I need you to level with me here, because...I honestly have no idea what...I mean was that...you know, like, a comforting friend thing, or...were you feeling anxious or…”

Lydia’s chest tightened at his words and a spark of guilt struck her. Stiles had absolutely no idea how she felt. He’d made it crystal clear over the years and not once had she ever given him any indication of what was going on inside of her. She held his gaze and slid her free hand down his arm until she could thread her fingers through his.

“I’m not feeling anxious,” she said softly as she took their interlocked hands and rested them over her heart. “I’m feeling...loved.” She whispered. “Stiles, I’m not entirely sure you understand how much you mean to me. So, maybe...maybe it’s time I tell you.”

His breath caught in his throat when she said she wasn’t feeling anxious. Sure enough her pulse was strong, and steady, not too fast. Not fast enough for anxiety. He swallowed hard as he searched her eyes, trying to figure out where she was going with this. He wasn’t entirely sure if she was about to make him the happiest guy on the planet, or if she was about to very gently remove his heart from his chest -- again -- and never give it back. So he simply nodded, afraid of what might tumble out of his mouth if he spoke again.

Lydia nodded back, “It has taken me a long time to see what’s right in front of me,” she started a wave of shame filling her, “and it’s taken me even longer to accept it. When Jackson left, I think it crushed a little piece inside of me and I was too afraid to put myself out there again, too afraid to chance my heart on someone else.” Her words were raw and full of emotion. These were things she’d never even told Allison even though she was pretty sure her friend knew them. “But Stiles, you’ve protected my heart for years, even when it wasn’t yours.” She said softly not able to keep the moisture from her eyes.

“I lost myself in idiots because I was scared, so I took the easy way out...but I’m ready now.” Lydia shifted closer to Stiles, “I don’t want to ignore whatever this is, I don’t want to have regrets. I don’t want to wake up one morning and realize that I never gave this a chance. That I never told you what you are to me.” She paused the normal confidence that was always there lacking at the moment.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I…I’m kind of falling in love with you.” The words were out in one breath and surprise colored her features. Lydia couldn't believe she’d finally said that out loud and in front of Stiles. And just like that she was incredibly anxious.

Stiles had to take a deep breath and force himself to keep his gaze on her and not look down to count his fingers to make sure there were only ten, because he wasn’t entirely convinced he was awake and not dreaming. He’d tried for years just to get on Lydia’s radar to no avail, until all the supernatural things had begun happening. Until Scott had gotten good at lacrosse and then he’d been on her radar as Scott’s annoying best friend.

Aside from her confession of her feelings for him, Stiles wasn’t surprised by anything she was saying. He knew Jackson had hurt her, had wounded her in ways that maybe she’d never fully heal from. Knew that when he’d left, it had broken her heart. She’d loved him, and maybe part of her always would. That she’d lost herself in idiots wasn’t news, either. He’d kept an eye on her, knew she was going out with various well known jerks both at school and from the local college. It had hurt, but he understood. She hadn’t had feelings for him then. She was just in pain and trying to heal herself. He got it. He understood it. He understood her.

Stiles lifted his hand to her cheek, gently moving his thumb over her soft skin. “I kinda...can’t believe this is actually happening,” he admitted with a tiny smile.

Lydia leaned into his touch and a soft laugh tumbled from her throat, but she kept her gaze on his. “It’s happening,” she said softly, the small smile leaving her face suddenly, “If you still want it to happen...If I didn’t wait too long.” She said quietly. Stiles had every right to reject her. After everything she’d put him through, after ignoring him and basically saying without words he wasn’t good enough.

But that was before she knew him. Before she knew that there wasn’t anyone in the world more loyal, brave, honest, and loving than he was. In reality it was Stiles that was too good for her. She didn’t deserve him, but she desperately wanted to.

Was she kidding? She had to be kidding. She’d waited a long time, but considering the fifteen year plan he’d drawn up to woo her and eventually get her to marry him one day, he was way ahead of schedule. His smile got a little bigger and a second later, he was leaning in and kissing her for real this time, one hand threading through her hair. “No such thing as waiting too long for something like this, Lydia.”

Lydia relaxed into him a grin spreading across her face as she wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank god, because that would have been embarrassing,” she joked as she tilted her head up and captured his lips in another kiss as she pressed herself against him, her heart feeling slightly lighter than it had hours ago.


	10. Chapter 10

Lydia cracked the last egg into the bowl and then reached over and threw the empty carton out into the garbage. She grabbed a fork and started whipping it through the eggs as she glanced at the clock on the stove. It was a little after six. Lydia knew the Sheriff and Stiles would probably be up soon, she was actually mildly surprised Stiles hadn’t woken up when she slipped out of bed that morning.

A soft smile spread across her face as she brought the bowl over to the heated frying pan. She poured the eggs in, her mind drifting back to last night. Things between her and Stiles were no longer confusing, well, that was a lie. They were still confusing, but at least now they each knew what they meant to each other.

The sound of a soft bark pulled her from her thoughts and Lydia glanced down at Prada who had made her way into the kitchen. She smiled, put the bowl on the counter and bent down. “Hi baby, are you being a good girl?” She asked as she rubbed Prada’s neck before giving her a quick pat on the head and then standing back up.

The table was set, the juice and milk were out. There was toast, some turkey bacon and she was working on the eggs. Lydia took the spatula and pushed the eggs around in the pan as her eyes drifted to the small calendar on the refrigerator. The smile that she hadn’t been able to get rid of since she woke up slipped from her face.

Lydia swallowed hard and turned back to the food on the stove. She had woken up extremely early even though she and Stiles hadn’t fallen asleep until late. Her mood was good minus the fact that eight years ago today her sister and Mrs. Stilinski had died. Lydia didn’t even like to think about it, but she knew they wouldn’t be able to avoid it today so she thought she’d do something nice for Stiles and his Dad.

A couple of minutes later she turned off the stove and scooped the eggs onto a plate.

Stiles was only half awake through his shower and he fumbled with clothes from his closet. It had been days since he’d had a nightmare and the only thing that had actually changed was that Lydia was spending every night with him, in his bed. A tired smile stretched across his face momentarily as he recalled what had happened the day before, but it was momentary as he remembered the events that had let up to the thing that made him smile. That, combined with the knowledge of the date, made him sigh softly, rubbing a hand over his face.

He sniffed the air, confused for a moment as he smelled eggs cooking. His dad never made breakfast on the anniversary. They generally ate breakfast separately before splitting up for the day -- Stiles to school and the sheriff to work -- and meeting at Claudia’s grave after. That was if Stiles made it to school. Usually he didn’t bother. He’d skip out one day a year and find something else to do instead.

Which meant that Lydia was in the kitchen. Cooking. Cooking breakfast. He blinked, eyes widening a little as he exited his room and headed down the steps, rounding the corner and staring at her as she stood at the stove, hair damp from the shower, and already dressed for the day. “Lydia?”

Lydia glanced over her shoulder as she placed the pan down and grabbed the plate full of eggs. She turned and walked towards the table and Stiles. “Morning,” she said softly as she put the plate on the table and watched as Prada pranced around Stiles legs. Lydia closed some of the distance between them, “Did you sleep okay?” She asked as she rested a hand on his chest not sure what his mood was going to be like.

Stiles nodded, leaning in after a second’s hesitation and kissing her softly on the mouth before pulling away to look at her. “You made breakfast.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “It smells good.”

Lydia’s smile was back, “I did and I’m glad. Your Dad’s been making breakfast for us all week, I thought maybe he could use a break,” she admitted and motioned to the table. “Eggs, mostly whites, toast and don’t worry, it’s turkey bacon,” she told him remembering what he’d said to his Dad the first morning Sheriff Stilinski found them in bed together.

He relaxed a little when she smiled, and when she told him what breakfast consisted of, his eyes got just a little brighter than before. “You are one amazing woman, Lydia Martin.” He reached out and wound his arms around her in a hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you.” His voice was quiet. She knew what day it was, of course, and that no doubt had factored into this, too.

Lydia wrapped her arms around Stiles and leaned into him, “You’re welcome,” she said just as quietly. She stayed like that in his arms running a hand up and down his back wanting him to know she was there for him if he needed her.

The clearing of a throat from the doorway made Lydia pull back from Stiles slowly. She sent the Sheriff a hesitant smile. “Morning Sheriff,” she said keeping her tone light.

Stiles turned to face his dad when he heard his footsteps and then his throat-clearing. His chest tightened when he saw how tired his dad looked, and he swallowed hard, not quite sure what to say, if he was supposed to say anything. He knew that deep down, even if he would never admit it out loud, his dad blamed him. He didn’t blame his dad for that. How could he? It was the truth.

The Sheriff watched them for a minute before his gaze drifted to the table full of food. “Did you do all this?” He asked as he cocked his head to the side.

Lydia swallowed hard not used to actually being nervous. “I did, I hope that’s okay.” She added as an afterthought.

The sheriff glanced around again and nodded. It had been a long time since he’d spent the anniversary of Claudia’s death with anyone. He typically spent the day alone and then met up with Stiles at the graveyard. But he could work with this. “It’s actually very nice of you...thanks.” He said while running a hand through his messy hair. He wasn’t due in until noon so they had some time.

Wordlessly, Stiles moved to sit down in his normal spot, picking up the glass of juice that Lydia had already poured and taking a small sip, blinking back the tears that burned his eyes before either of them could see. He felt a small paw on his leg and looked down to see Prada there begging for food. He broke a little piece of bacon off and fed it to the pup silently.

Lydia caught the look On Stiles’ face, but she kept her mouth shut for the moment and sat beside him. She filled her plate and rested her free hand on Stiles’ thigh offering him some comfort.

Stiles was extremely glad when Lydia sat down next to him, and he wondered if she’d seen how hard he was struggling to stay as low key about things as he could, or if she’d somehow felt it. Either way, he relaxed once more when she rested her hand on his leg and he reached down to cover it with his own.

The Sheriff watched the two of them for a minute, his chest tightening as he pulled out a chair and sat across from them. He reached for some of the food and as he was putting some on his plate he couldn’t help the way his thoughts flashed to Claudia and how she used to make breakfast every morning. Something about breakfast being the most important meal of the day and how it should be shared as a family.

If he was being honest the past few days with Stiles and Lydia, the house had started to feel more alive again. Having a woman’s opinion on things whether it was wanted or not seemed to be opening them up to spending more time together. They’d had breakfast together every day this week, dinner two on the nights he wasn’t working.

And now this. The Sheriff paused before taking a bite of his eggs. “This is nice,” he said his voice quiet, “Maybe tonight we can meet here, have some dinner before heading to the cemetery,” he suggested. It didn’t sound like a big deal, but for him it was. Thinking about Claudia still hurt especially on this day.

He’d just taken a bite of bacon when his dad suggested they meet there for dinner before going to the cemetery, and he froze, lifting his gaze to see if he was serious. The look on his face suggested that he was, but Stiles still couldn’t quite bring himself to meet his dad’s eyes. He never could. Not on this date. “Uh, yeah. I mean if that’s...what you want to do.” His voice was rough, like he had something stuck in his throat.

Lydia heard his voice and she squeezed his leg gently. The Sheriff must have heard it too because she watched as he put down his fork and focused his attention on Stiles.

“Son,” his voice is rough as he waited for Stiles to look at him.

Please don’t do this. Not now, he thought, feeling his chest tighten in that familiar way, like any second he was going to be struggling for breath in a really not fun kind of panic attack way. His hand tightened around Lydia’s just a little, his other hand wrapping tightly around his fork as he tried to look up. He just couldn’t do it. Don’t you ruin this breakfast, Stilinski, he told himself, putting his own fork down. What was it that Scott had done a few weeks ago, when he’d been shifting without having control? Right. Stiles let his other hand drop to his side, digging his nails in as hard and as deep as he could.

He let out a breath and finally looked at his dad. “We can do dinner first this time. That sounds good.”

It pained the Sheriff to see the unshed tears in his eyes. Guilt hit him hard in the gut as he realized that this was his fault. The reason they never spent this day together was because of him. He distanced himself from Stiles, because the emotion he felt on this day was too hard to deal with. Claudia’s death brought him too much pain and the guilt of not being there when she died made it even worse.

The Sheriff took a minute before he reached out and gripped Stiles’ shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “It’s okay to be upset...to be sad,” his felt his throat tighten, “I miss her too.” His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke.

Lydia felt her own eyes mist over and she had to look away to keep her emotions in check, which at the moment wasn’t easy.

He was a little caught off guard when his dad gripped his shoulder. It wasn’t that they weren’t physically affectionate because as father and sons went, the Stilinski’s generally hugged at least once a day. It was something that Claudia had instilled in both of them. It was that the whole morning was throwing him off track and he literally just didn’t know what to do. He reached out and did the same, squeezing his dad’s shoulder. “I know, Dad,” he whispered, swallowing hard and looking down at his plate as his own guilt threatened to swallow him whole. Christ, if he just hadn’t been so fucking stupid and selfish, things could have been so different.

He looked over at Lydia, holding his breath for a moment and searching her eyes as he silently asked permission to fill his dad in on what they’d learned.

Lydia nodded, knowing almost immediately what Stiles wanted to do. She caught the confusion on the Sheriff’s face at their exchange, but she ignored it for the moment. “Do you want me to stay?” She asked softly not knowing if he wanted this time with his Dad to be private.

Stiles nodded, not letting go of her hand before looking over at his dad once more. “Dad, there’s uh...there’s some stuff we need to tell you that we just found out,” he whispered. “And it’s...kind of a lot to wrap your mind around.”

The Sheriff’s brows drew together as he frowned while glancing between them. “Is everything okay?” He paused and sat back in his chair, “Wait a minute this isn’t...you two aren’t,” he swallowed hard and rubbed the back of his neck, “Lydia isn’t pregnant is she?” He asked not sure they could deal with a teenage pregnancy on top of everything else.

He’d just taken a drink of orange juice to wet his throat before he started to explain when his dad asked him if Lydia was pregnant...in front of Lydia. Orange juice spewed out of his mouth and all over the table. “Oh my god, Dad! No.”

Relief flew over the Sheriff’s face as he grabbed some napkins and reached forward patting up the spilled juice on the table. “Well, it’s not like it’s out of the realm of possibility, my judgment has obviously been compromised since I’ve been letting a girl sleep in your bed.” He said his gaze darting to Lydia and frowning when he saw the humor there.

Lydia bit her bottom lip as she tried not to laugh at the expression on Stiles’ face. “Well, rest assured Sheriff, there are no babies.” Considering that in order for there to be babies there had to be a little thing called sex and she and Stiles hadn’t actually taken that step in their newly cultivated relationship.

“Then what is it? What’s going on? Don’t keep your old man in suspense.” He said while glancing between them.

“Sure, right after I get over the mortal humiliation I’m currently suffering from,” he grumbled under his breath. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, unaware that his palm was bleeding from digging his nails into the skin so deeply.

Lydia couldn’t hold back the soft laugh that bubbled up from her throat and she clamped a hand over her mouth immediately. She was pretty sure it was a combination of humor and lack of sleep that was currently making the whole thing seem funny.

But the smile was short lived when she saw Stiles’ hand. “What did you do?” She asked her eyebrows drawing together as she grabbed a napkin and wrapped it around his hand.

The Sheriff frowned. “You should wet it,” he said taking a napkin and getting up so he could wet it under the sink. “One of you please tell me what’s going on. No more secrets,” he said as he walked back over to the table with the wet napkin.

He grimaced just a little as they tended to his hand. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal, it doesn’t even hurt.” He looked at his dad. “Dad...the night that Mom…” He swallowed hard. “The car accident.” His voice dropped and he glanced at Lydia, a pained expression on both of their faces before he turned back to the sheriff. “Can you tell us the story? Not what happened, but -- about the girl that you talked to.”

The Sheriff frowned, “Stiles--”

“Please,” Lydia cut him off softly, “Please.” She repeated her voice soft as she wrapped a dry napkin around Stiles hand and held it there.

The Sheriff glanced at them and between the look his son was giving him and the Lydia’s voice echoing in his head he sighed before letting his mind drift back to that night. “It was a night eight years ago today. I was at the end of a shift and a call came in,” he paused his chest tightening, “There was a pileup and a teenage girl was trapped under a turned over car. We had to wait for the paramedics, but I knew...I knew we were never getting her out.” His voice lowered.

Lydia’s chest grew tight as she listened to the Sheriff talking about her sister.

“But I was able to hold her hand...She knew she was going to die. But I just kept telling her no, no listen the paramedics are on their way.” The Sheriff was so caught up in his story that he didn’t see the tears in Lydia’s eyes or the way she clutched at his son.

“And I remember her hand suddenly gripped mine so tight that I literally thought she was going to break the bones.” He took a deep breath, pain filling his chest as he continued, “And as she looked me in the eye she said, ‘if you want to be with her, go now.’ and I knew she was talking about my wife.” His voice choked up, but he kept going.

“But then that other part of my brain, the part that looks for clues, that looks for fingerprints for logical connections, that part told me that there is no way this girl could possibly know about Claudia.” The Sheriff didn’t say her name often so when the words came out he needed to breathe deeply to keep his emotions in check.

“And so I stayed. I stayed until the paramedics pulled her out, until her heart stopped beating and they declared her dead.” At this point the Sheriff had tears in his eyes as he held Stiles gaze. “When I got to the hospital I saw you sitting in the waiting room with your head in your hands and she was already gone. You were with you Mother when she died because I didn’t believe.” He said a tear falling down his cheek. “I’ll never forgive myself for not believing her, for not taking it more seriously and for making you be there on your Stiles, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for the two of you.” He dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Stiles had heard the story exactly once -- the same night that his mom had died, but he knew it by heart anyway. He felt his own chest tighten painfully at the faraway, haunted look in his dad’s eyes, at the way that Lydia clung to his hand. He had to be strong now, for both of them. They needed that right now. He reached his free hand out and laid it on his dad’s shoulder even as tears welled in his own eyes. He blinked rapidly to hold them back.

Hearing it again now, knowing what he knew hurt in a different way than it had hurt the first time eight years ago. Knowing that Lydia’s sister had been the one he’d stayed with, that he’d tried to comfort until she’d passed away, made it both easier and harder for him to understand things. To see them in a different perspective.

Lydia spoke, quiet tears streaming down her cheeks, “It was my sister,” she said softly, “The girl in the car was my sister.”

“Dad.” His voice was thick. “You did the right thing. Staying that night. I was with Mom, and you were with Lydia’s sister. I think that’s what was supposed to happen.” He turned his head to look at Lydia. Beautiful Lydia that he’d loved for so long. Then he turned back to his dad. “You have to forgive yourself, Dad. Please,” he whispered.

The Sheriff looked between them and as he studied Lydia he could see the resemblance now that he was looking for it. He covered his face at his son’s words, knowing he was right. He’d hated himself for so long for leaving his eight year old son to do what he should have been there do to. But Stiles was right. The Sheriff shifted and pulled his son into a hug holding him as he spoke, his voice muffled with grief, “How in the hell did I get such a smart kid?” He whispered.

Stiles’s body shuddered involuntarily as he hugged his dad tightly, closing his eyes and burying his face in his dad’s neck. “Your kid got it from his parents,” he whispered back. The grief welled up within him and tears formed behind his eyelids but he didn’t open them, didn’t want to shed them because this wasn’t about him. This was about his dad understanding that Stiles forgave him and that he needed to forgive himself.

After a minute, he lifted his head and looked back at Lydia, reaching his hand out toward her wordlessly.

She took it as the Sheriff shifted back shaking his head as he worked on pulling himself together. “This wasn’t how I planned the morning going,” he said suddenly as he reached for a napkin because there weren’t any tissues on the table.

Lydia did the same with her free hand. Seeing Stiles and his Dad so worked up and finally getting everything out after so long pulled at her heart. “Thank you for staying with Elizabeth,” she said when both Stilinski’s had calmed down a bit. “I know it hurt, but it means a lot to me that she wasn’t alone, so thank you.” She said the words softly and the Sheriff reached out and squeezed her arm gently before turning to face Stiles.

“We’re all going to be okay,” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion.

Stiles exhaled slowly, sniffing and looking between them, knowing that somehow, as awful and as painful as it was, two out of the three people who mattered the most to him were finally on the path to healing painful wounds, and it was largely thanks to Derek Hale. There was irony there somewhere, he was pretty sure. He’d have to send him a balloon-o-gram or something. And possibly hide somewhere nearby with a camera just to capture the man’s reaction on film because he imagined it would be pretty priceless.

He hugged Lydia, rubbing her back for a moment and then looking at his dad. “We should eat. The eggs are probably getting cold and Lydia’s a good cook.” His voice was lighter than before. But there was still a tug of pain in his heart as he sat back down to eat.

The Sheriff chuckled as he wiped a hand down his face again, “It really does smell good...even if that is turkey bacon,” he said sending them a knowing look. He glanced up and caught Lydia’s gaze convinced that had she not been there he and his son would have spent yet another year without really talking. “Thanks for this Lydia.”

She wiped her eyes while leaning into Stiles’ touch. “Any time.” She said quietly. She was glad that she could help, that being there did something for them. It was still a sad day, but now at least they could all move forward.

_______

 

Stiles parked his jeep in the school’s parking lot later that morning, worrying his lower lip with his teeth and turning off the engine. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, turning his head to look at Lydia, who was sitting in the passenger seat. He wasn’t surprised to find her watching him. He reached out, laying a hand on her arm. “I didn’t get a chance earlier. To thank you.” He looked down for a moment. “That’s the first time that uh -- we have this ritual of avoidance usually.” He wondered how Lydia usually spent the day because it occurred to him that he didn’t know. “Do you have any, you know, traditions or uh, things you do today?” Because if she did, maybe they could find a way to incorporate it into the day, if she wanted to share that part of herself with him.

Lydia watched Stiles closely as she reached up and fingered the necklace she wore. Her sister’s necklace. “My parents usually go out of town,” she admitted quietly. “Even after all these years, I don’t think they’ve dealt with what happened, so instead they keep themselves busy.” Leaving her alone as usual to deal with everything on her own. Sometimes Lydia felt like she was the one who was the parent.

“I usually go to the cemetery. I bring Eliza’s favorite flowers, calla lilies, and,” Lydia paused, she’d never opened up this much to anyone about her sister, not even Jackson. “I talk to her sometimes...sometimes I yell. It’s the one time I let my emotions control me. I say what I feel and it’s not always pretty, but there’s so much I’ve never gotten to say to her. There’s guilt and anger and just a whole eclectic array of emotions burgeoning inside of me that sometimes it feels like I’m going to explode.”

Lydia took a deep breath and let it out slowly before glancing at Stiles again, half a smile on her face. “This is the first year that I don’t feel that panicked ball of emotion cluttering my common sense. I--I’m not angry at her anymore. I feel like for the first time I know who she was or at least a little bit of it.” Lydia’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip. “Would you be okay with me going back to see Derek sometime? He knows more about my sister than I ever did and...I’d really like to know what she was like and how she handled being what we are.” She explained.

His gaze dropped to her necklace when she fiddled with it and his chest tightened a little. He hurt for her, because as much as he and his dad usually avoided each other on this day, and avoided talking about his mom in general, he knew that her parents had done a lot more damage to her by actually leaving town and leaving her to deal with everything on her own. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her arm as he listened to her. Cala lillies, he thought, storing that information in his mind for later.

Stiles didn’t usually talk when he visited the cemetery with his dad. Neither of them did. They usually took flowers, cleaned off her headstone of any stray weeds or leaves, and stood in relative silence for a few minutes before separating. Usually his dad had to go back to work and Stiles would either go home or he’d go to Scott’s. It was one of the rare times that he actually used the McCall’s front door instead of climbing through Scott’s bedroom window. At least before he had a key made to the house, anyway.

“I’m glad,” he said softly, squeezing her arm. He was glad that the information Derek had provided had given her peace of mind. When she asked about going back to see the werewolf, he nodded. “Yeah, of course. Whenever you want.”

Lydia smiled, “You’ll come with me if I go?” She asked. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Derek, if anything he had more reason not to trust her after what she’d done. But anything involving her sister was close to her heart and she didn’t really know Derek all that well. Having Stiles there would make her more comfortable.

Stiles slid his arm down her arm and laced his fingers through hers. “You don’t even have to ask.” Distantly it occurred to him that Peter had specifically targeted Lydia because he probably believed that there was a good reason that she shared the same powers that Elizabeth had. Which meant that he probably also had a good wealth of information that they weren’t privy too, and that wasn’t good. It meant that he wanted to keep it to himself for some reason, probably some very selfish, diabolical reason and for just a second, his jaw tightened. One way or another, Peter Hale wasn’t going to use Lydia for his own purposes again. Not if Stiles had anything to say or do about it. He’d helped kill the man once already anyway. He looked out the windshield. “I guess we better head in.”

Lydia followed his gaze and nodded. “Yeah, probably. I’ve got a test in Biology,” she paused, “We’ve got a test in biology.” She corrected. “I’m going to ruin the curve,” Lydia said confidently with a grin before squeezing Stiles’ hand and then releasing it as she reached for the door handle a slight flutter taking up residence in her stomach.

That was new and mildly unwanted. What in the world was she nervous about? Lydia pushed the door open and got out of the jeep.

Stiles smiled faintly and pushed open the driver’s side door, climbing out and locking the doors with the button on his keys. He slid the keys into his pocket and met Lydia at the front of the vehicle. “Like ruining the grading curve is anything new for Lydia Martin,” he teased lightly, glancing at her sideways as he pulled his bookbag onto his back.

Lydia smirked, “This is true. I do so love watching the uneducated squirm.” She said with a sigh before glancing sideways at Stiles. They stood there for a minute as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder. Lydia held out her hand to Stiles, “Ready?” She inquired softly.

He smirked, too, shaking his head at her comment and then looking back at her, seeing tension grip her as they looked at the school. He felt it, too. No, he wasn’t ready. Not really. But he doubted she was either. He reached out and took her hand, watching one of the buses roll up in front of the school, students flooding off a second later as they made their way toward the building, as well.

“We’re breaking the laws of physics,” she teased lightly trying to get some of the tension to leave his body. “Ignore them, none of them matter.” Lydia paused, “That’s actually my daily motto,” she mumbled to herself before shaking her head. “Come on, you can walk me to my first class. There might even be some PDA’s involved,” Lydia said as she closed some of the distance between them.

She’d never been one to let what people say or think get to her, she was Lydia Martin. But she also wasn’t stupid. The second they walked into that school things changed for them. They hadn’t really discussed what they were, but honestly Lydia didn’t think they needed to. She was pretty sure she and Stiles were on the same page. At least she hoped they were.

Stiles was pretty sure they were breaking a lot of laws besides physics laws. He was fairly certain they were about to jack up the entire social hierarchy that was Beacon Hills High, and he hoped that she really wouldn’t be bothered by it, even if it made him nervous for her. It was no secret that he’d grown up with exactly one friend -- Scott McCall. And sure, when Scott was bitten and became the star of the lacrosse team, Stiles’ own social status had gone up a couple of points. But he still had very few actual friends.

Lydia, on the other hand, was like the shining star of Beacon Hills. Everyone feared, loved or admired her. There were exactly zero exceptions.

Glancing at Lydia, he watched her toss her hair over one shoulder and he bit back a smile. She was brave, that much he’d already known. But there was a difference between being brave and facing down the supernatural and being brave enough to face down dubious stares and looks from your peers at school. “Just to be clear, what does PDA involve?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too eager.

Lydia smirked as she tugged him forward, “Stiles, you have reached boyfriend status,” she said nonchalantly glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “PDA involves tasteful touching in public,” she told him, “Though I’m not opposed to some not so tasteful touching in less than public places.” She said with a hint of mischief in her gaze. She was teasing...and not really teasing, but mostly Lydia was wondering how he’d take the boyfriend comment.

He was pretty sure that his 15 year old self would have actually peed himself right about then. He, however, was going to be the mature 17 year old that he actually was and just grin stupidly. “Okay, that is definitely good to know. I will keep both of those things in the forefront of my mind.” Because those kinds of things would definitely be important enough to keep in the forefront of his mind. “So um, less than public places would be places such as…”

Lydia bit the inside of her cheek doing her best not to laugh at his eagerness because if she was being honest, she was pretty eager too. Stiles was a better kisser than she would have thought. A lot better. “My house, your house, your car, my car, the janitor’s closet, the empty second floor chemistry room, the locker rooms...Do you want me to keep going?” She asked amused.

Stiles felt overwhelmed, but in a good way as she listed off all the places that were acceptable make-out areas. “I will never look at the janitor’s closet the same way again,” he said as they walked. Or any of the other places, for that matter. He spotted Scott, leaning against the locker beside Stiles’ and he felt his chest tighten. Scott always remembered what the day was, and since he hadn’t texted to let his best friend know he wouldn’t be at school that day, Scott must have figured he was actually going to be there.

When they stopped walking Lydia followed Stiles’ gaze and she saw Scott. She squeezed his hand, “Go, you can find me later,” she said softly understanding that Stiles needed some time with Scott. Lydia leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek, letting them linger there for a moment.

He closed his eyes when she kissed his cheek. “Okay. I’ll see you in bio,” he told her quietly, reluctantly letting go of her hand and walking over to Scott. “Hey dude.” He smiled, but it was faint.

Scott’s brows had arched at the scene he just witnessed, but he left it alone for the moment, “Hey,” he reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder knowing how hard this day was for Stiles. “I didn’t think you’d be here today,” he commented lightly.

Stiles drew in a breath. “Yeah, yeah me either, but…” He looked back toward where Lydia had vanished around the corner and then turned to Scott again. “I need to fill you in on some stuff. You wanna ditch first period with me?”

Scott nodded, “Always,” he said his brows drawing together in worry as he motioned back towards the way Stiles had come. “What’s going on?” He asked quietly noticing that there were more eyes on them than usual.

Stiles turned to look; taking note of the hushed whispers all around, at the people looking at him like he’d committed a mortal sin of some kind. “I sorta...broke all the rules of the social hierarchy when Lydia and I came in holding hands and talking about the best make out spots.” He shrugged and turned to look at Scott.

Scott’s mouth dropped open almost comically. “I knew something was going on with you two!” He jabbed his finger in his best friend’s direction accusingly. “You didn’t tell me?” There was a hint of hurt in his voice. “How long has this been going on? Are you dating? Holy crap how are you still alive right now?” Scott was pretty sure every version of Stiles was on some kind of cloud nine ethereal plain. “This is happening?” He asked as they continued walking to the exit.

Stiles clapped a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Other than my dad you’re the first to know, and we didn’t exactly tell him so I’m not sure he even counts. And just since yesterday. Last night, actually. I haven’t been holding out on you,” he said honestly, walking with Scott toward the East exit of the school. “She called me her boyfriend, so yeah, I guess that means we’re dating.” He grinned a little, ducking his head.

Scott’s grin widened, “You’re dating Lydia Martin,” he said with a chuckle, “You’ve wanted that since third grade dude,” he glanced at Stiles, “Maybe today isn’t such a bad day after all.” He said as he patted his friends back.

He smiled at that, opening the door and leading them outside and turning to face Scott, walking backwards. His expression grew more serious once more. “Dude. We went to see Derek yesterday. He had some information for Lydia.”

Scott blinked, “Derek had information for Lydia?” He repeated confused. “That seems...weird.” Derek didn’t really interact with anyone outside of him, Isaac and occasionally Stiles. Why he’d had anything to talk about with Lydia was beyond him. “What happened?” He asked curiously.

“You’re not even gonna believe this.” He shook his head as he turned to face forward so they were walking side by side again. “I can hardly believe it myself. But apparently Lydia’s sister was involved with Derek’s family.” His stomach tightened into a knot. “And not just Derek’s. Mine, too.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He could tell by the look on Scott’s face that he’d confused his best friend, so he kept going. “She was like Lydia. Immune to the bite. She was bitten by another pack’s alpha, but she didn’t turn. I don’t know all the details but she knew Derek’s family before the fire. Dude.” He looked at Scott. “She was a banshee, too.”

Scott stopped walking, “Are you kidding me?” But by the look on his best friends face he wasn’t. “Lydia’s sister was a Banshee?” Scott picked up his pace again heading for Stiles’ car. “What does that mean? Does it run in her family? How did Derek know her? How was she involved with his family?” Scott couldn’t help the barrage of questions that flew from his mouth. It wasn’t every day that Stiles dropped more than one huge bomb on him in the span of a few minutes.

The way Scott was firing questions at him made Stiles wonder idly if he’d stolen one of his Adderall or something. Though in fairness to Scott, that had been a pretty shocking twist to their story. “Yeah. Not really sure about any of those yet.” He climbed into his jeep, waiting for Scott to do the same, and he slid the keys in the ignition. “We didn’t exactly get all the details because…” He drew in a breath, staring ahead, knowing the next thing he told Scott was going to shock his best friend even more. “You remember the car accident ten years ago?”

Scott nodded, “Yeah, I remember.” He wasn’t sure why Stiles was bringing it up. “The one that your Dad--” he let his words trail off not wanting to upset his friend. “Yes,” he said again simply waiting for Stiles to help him make the connection.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, then turned to look at Scott. “It was her sister’s car that crashed. It was her sister that died that night.” He swallowed hard, laying his head back against the headrest. “Scott...she predicted my mom’s death.”

Scott’s eye’s widened as he took in his best friends words. Lydia’s sister was the reason the Sheriff didn’t make it to the hospital. She also knew Claudia was going to die. He stayed silent for a minute trying to find the right words but they never came.

Scott ran a hand over the back of his neck before reaching out and gripping Stiles’ shoulder. “Wow...are you sure?” He asked quietly.

Stiles’ expression was pained when he looked at his friend again, nodding slightly. “Yeah. That night was just -- I mean it was chaos? And I don’t think anyone put the pieces together until recently.” His jaw tightened ever so slightly. “Except one person.”

Scott’s brows furrowed as he shifted in his seat angling his body towards Stiles. “Who?” He asked.

“Peter Hale.” He rubbed his hand over his face again, staring out the windshield. “I think he knew all along. I think he went after Lydia, specifically, knowing there was a possibility that she was like her sister.” And Stiles didn’t think Peter would’ve cared at all if it had turned out he was wrong and Lydia had rejected the bite and died.

Realization crossed Scott’s face. “Peter always seems to know things,” he commented. “He came back to town with Derek...Do we know where he is? You don’t think he’ll come after Lydia again do you? He seemed pretty civil the last time he saw her.” Then again why wouldn’t he be civil in front of people, thought Scott.

“Yeah, he does. Sorta like Deaton,” he said, gripping the steering wheel a little more tightly. He wasn’t exactly pleased with Scott’s boss for withholding information he definitely knew about, but at least Deaton hadn’t attacked and hurt anyone, so he was above Peter in that respect. “I don’t know. But if he does, I’m gonna kill him.” There was no hint of kidding in Stiles’ tone as he started his jeep’s engine and put it into gear.

Scott could see the truth on his friends face and he swallowed hard. “You know I always have your back and Isaac has ours, probably Derek too if it came down to it.” He told his friend. “We won’t let him get near her if that’s his plan.” Scott said leaving no room for argument.

Stiles glanced at him sideways, reaching out and patting his shoulder. “I know, man,” he said quietly. He hoped it didn’t come to that, but if it did, he had a stash of wolfsbane with Peter’s name written all over it in a trunk in his closet. “So it’s just been...a long twenty four hours. We told my dad this morning.”

Scott winced, “How’d that go?” He couldn't imagine that Stiles’ Dad took it well. Especially after all those years of thinking one thing only to find out another.

He let out a breath. “Well, I think he took it okay. I think it actually helped. I mean, now he knows that him staying with Elizabeth -- it meant a lot to Lydia to hear that, I think,” he whispered, focusing on the road ahead of him. “So knowing that makes a difference for him, and that’s good. Scott, we actually all had breakfast together this morning.” He chewed on his thumbnail.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “That’s different,” he said knowing that Stiles and the Sheriff pretty much had their own little routine that they followed and for him to break it...well that was saying something. “So this is a good thing then?” He asked, “Finding out what she was and how it all connected.”

He chewed his lower lip. “I think it helped both of them, yeah.” He focused intently on driving. “Though when we told him we needed to talk to him his immediate question was if Lydia was pregnant.” He groaned.

Scott’s mouth dropped open, “He asked if Lydia was pregnant?” At this point Scott was starting to feel like a parrot, but seriously his friend hadn’t come to him with this much news in a long time. “But she’s not,” he said as he held Stiles gaze wondering if it was possible that she could be, but not wanting to come out and ask. “What did Lydia say?”

“What? No. Dude. No. She’s definitely absolutely not. God.” His eyes were wide and he looked at Scott dubiously. He shook his head. “She thought it was funny.”

Scott held up a hand, “Relax, it was just a question. Besides if something that...serious happened I would hope you’d tell me about it. I told you all about it,” he said with a smirk, “Turnabout's fair play or however the saying goes,” Scott said.

“I mean we just started dating or whatever yesterday and...Believe me, yes, you’ll get to hear all about it as payback.” Even now he cringed as he remembered Scott’s emphasizing just how good things were with Allison. Repeatedly. “Well not all about it because some stuff’s private, but you know what I mean.” He shook his head, glancing at Scott sideways. “And speaking of hooking up, how are things going with Kira?”

Scott chuckled, “Nice segway,” he said with a shake of his head. “Things are going okay I think. I mean we’ve sort of hung out a couple of times, but...I like her. You know I like her.” He paused, “She’s sweet, but we can talk about that later,” he said pointedly, “Are you going to tell me how the whole thing with Lydia happened?” Scott wasn’t really sure what was going on with Kira, but he knew that being with Lydia was a big for his friend and it seemed to make the day easier for him to deal with, which Scott was glad about.

“Yeah, I know you like her. I like her too. I mean not like that, obviously, but I think you two would be good for each other,” Stiles said honestly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Allison, because he did. It was just always in the back of his mind that at the end of the day she was a hunter and Scott was a werewolf and Stiles worried about his best friend. A lot. He blew out a breath, his mind shifting gears again as Scott asked about how he and Lydia had finally ended up getting together.

“We both kinda...yesterday was really rough. Hearing all of it from Derek. I mean we weren’t really prepared for that, you know? We thought he just had like, general banshee kind of information that might help her understand how her powers and stuff worked, but...he brought down this box. It had Lydia’s sister’s necklace in it. He said she helped his family with stuff, which was weird because she would’ve only been like, thirteen when it all started.” Which was obviously way younger than it had started for Lydia. “He said that she was also connected to a human family.” His voice was a little strained at that. “Mine.”

Exhaling, he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “He laid it all out. That she had died the same night as my mom. And I remembered my dad telling me about the car accident. About the teenage girl that he stayed with that night.” He swallowed hard. “We were kind of in shock so we just went back to my house and tried to work on homework and stuff. I mean, we didn’t really talk for awhile. And then when we started talking...I don’t know, we were both upset but trying to figure it all out and she kissed me.” He bit his lip, falling silent once more.

Scott blinked, “Wow,” he knew he’d been saying that a lot, but seriously that’s what it was. ‘Wow’. “I’m glad you guys finally got some closure on what happened and why they happened,” Scott paused, “You know I’m glad Derek reached out to you guys I worry about him,” Scott admitted. “He’s so closed off, but knowing that he reached out and opened up to you guys about stuff kinda gives me hope that things are gonna be different for all of us now. In a good way,” he added quickly.

“That’d be a nice change,” Stiles murmured. “We could use good stuff for awhile. Or you know, permanently. That’d be okay, too.” But Stiles’ mind was still troubled. “Hey uh, Scotty, you remember that favor I asked of you? If something happened to me?” His voice dropped, and his chest tightened.

Scott pursed his lips, “What favor?” He asked trying to play it off. He did not like this favor, never liked this favor. Thinking that something bad might happen to Stiles, well let’s just say it wasn’t something Scott enjoyed. He didn’t know what he’d do without him.

He shot Scott a pained look. It was one he’d learned from Scott and okay maybe he didn’t have his best friend’s freaking puppy eyes, but he knew that Scott knew exactly what he was talking about. “You know what I’m talking about. I need to amend the favor.”

Scott met Stiles’ gaze and sighed, but he nodded. “Okay, what’s the amendment?” He asked quietly acknowledging that yes, Stiles had asked him for a favor whether he liked it or not and he would absolutely do whatever his best friend needed him to do.

“If anything goes wrong. You know with the ritual. Promise me you’ll get Lydia out of my head immediately. Somehow.”

Scott frowned. “We’ll find a way to get you both out Stiles, not just Lydia. I won’t leave you behind. I can’t,” he said his voice pained.

Stiles winced at that because he could no more imagine living in this life without Scott than he could imagine it without his dad or Lydia. He reached out and squeezed Scott’s shoulder. How could he really even ask that? If Scott had asked that of him, Stiles probably would have slapped him upside the head. “Right,” he said quietly.

Scott watched him for a minute and swallowed hard. “I will make sure she’s okay, I promise, but I’m going to make sure you’re okay too.” He paused for a minute to collect his thoughts. “I know this ritual is scary, but it’s going to fix what’s going on with you. And then we can get back to almost getting killed every other week,” he said amused.

He chuckled involuntarily. “Who hasn’t missed that routine?”

“Certainly not me,” Scott joked. “So where are we heading?” He asked as he glanced out the window of the jeep watching as they passed the familiar neighborhood. “You’re not leaving your girlfriend all alone at school for the day are you?” He joked knowing Stiles said they were only skipping first period.

“Definitely not,” Stiles assured him. “I just needed to drive for a while. Get away from any possible prying ears.” He pursed his lips.

Scott nodded understanding, and then smiled. “I still can’t believe the two of you are dating,” he said with a grin. “Maybe after this whole ritual thing you Lydia, me and Kira can catch a movie or something. A double date.” He suggested.

A smile tugged at his mouth at that. “Yeah. That’d be good.” He glanced at his friend sideways. “Lydia’s gonna give her a chance, by the way. I think she was sensing that something was different with Kira and it was making her uneasy.”

Scott arched a brow that was news to him. “I didn’t realize that. I hope they get along. Kira’s a really nice girl and Lydia...well Lydia has her moments.” He joked, “But seriously they’re both nice and smart and it’s going to really be difficult to hang out if our girls don’t like each other.” He said with a frown.

“Lydia’s protective. Even of you.” He shrugged. “I think it’ll be fine though, man. And even if they wind up not getting along, you know, we’ve been friends forever, and that’s not gonna change.” His voice was firm.

Scott leaned back and smiled, “She is? Cool.” He said with a goofy grin. “My friends like me.” Stiles’ words registered in his head. “Oh, of course we’ll be friends always...I’m just wondering if they don’t get along how Lydia and I would split up time with you because you know I knew you first so I think I should get extra days.” Scott said amused as he leaned back in his seat.

Stiles shook his head, amused. “Yeah, we like you, buddy.” He steered the jeep into a U-turn and drove back toward the school. “So joint custody wouldn’t work?” he joked, elbowing him lightly in the arm.

“That depends, Do I get holidays?” Scott asked with a grin as they headed back towards the school.

“And every other weekend,” Stiles assured him.

Scott sent him a mock thoughtful look, “And I guess we can share you on your birthday,” he mused. “I accept your terms. Make sure you let Lydia know.” He said with a grin glad Stiles seemed to be in good spirits.

“I’ll have her sign the forms and everything. No later than end of the day.” He smirked as he parked his jeep in the parking lot of the high school once more. He shut off the engine and turned his head to look at his best friend. “Ready to go back to school?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Scott huffed good naturedly before pushing open the jeep door and hoping out of the car, glad that he got to spend some time with Stiles.


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles unlocked the door to the Stilinski household with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. He and Scott ended up with an hour’s worth of detention after school for ditching first period, but neither of them were that bothered by it. Truthfully they’d both probably been expecting it. They’d had so many detentions in the last three years that he’s surprised they haven’t been issued frequent flier miles.

He turned his head to look over his shoulder at Lydia as he pushed the door open. “Sorry again about the delay.” She was the only reason he had any guilt over detention since she was staying with them and he was her ride back. He held the door open for her, stepping back to let her in first and smiling a little when he heard excited barking running in their direction.

Lydia waved Stiles’ apology off, “It’s fine, I got a lot of work done in the library,” she told him as she grinned and bent down to greet Prada, “Hi baby,” she said while pulling the small pup into her arms and standing. “Did you miss me,” she cooed as she walked further into the house and then turned so she was facing Stiles.

She took Prada’s small paw and gently waved it at Stiles. “She might have missed you too...maybe,” Lydia said with a grin. Prada liked Stiles. He played with her, fed her and the other night she’d found her dog curled up on Stiles lap as he read a book for homework. It was cute, very cute.

He couldn’t help but grin at that. Once upon a time it would have been hard to imagine Lydia Martin making her dog wave at him, but there was something inherently Lydia about it and he shook his head, reaching out and petting Prada gently behind the ears. “I think she did,” he told her, indicating the dog’s wagging tail. He stooped down to pick the mail off the floor, sorting through it. Water bill, cable bill, garbage bill, power bill and…

Stiles smiled a little at the yellow envelope that most definitely wasn’t a bill. It had Melissa McCall’s handwriting on it, addressed to him and his dad, and he knew it was one of the ‘Thinking of You’ cards that she never failed to send them on the anniversary of his mom’s death. He set the stack by his dad’s favorite recliner, because he always let his dad open that particular piece of mail even though it was always addressed to both of them. Stiles had Scott for support on the day, and Sheriff Stilinski had Scott’s mom for support.

The card caught Lydia’s gaze as she let Prada back down on the floor. “What’s that?” She asked as she took her purse off her shoulder and dropped it carefully to the table before glancing over at Stiles.

“It’s uh -- a card from Scott’s mom.” His voice was soft. “She sends one every year for us.” He was quiet for a moment, looking up at her, wondering if anyone had ever done that for Lydia. He doubted it. He walked over and slid his arms around her waist.

Lydia tilted her head to the side and smiled. “That’s really nice of her,” she said just as softly.

“Yeah it is,” he agreed.

Lydia ran a hand down his arm, her expression softening. “Hi,” she said as she tilted her head up and brushed her lips against his.

Stiles closed his eyes as their lips met in a tender kiss. One of his hands slid up and threaded through her hair and he leaned his forehead against hers. “Hi.” It was still so new, just walking up to her and sliding his arms around her like it wasn’t something he’d literally fantasized and dreamed about for the last several years of his life. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought would actually happen.

Lydia ran a hand down his back, “I can practically hear you thinking,” she said keeping her tone light. “What’s going on in there? Talk to me?” She said as she let her free hand grip his midsection. Lydia hated that there was still so much she didn’t know about Stiles and his moods. One would think by now she’d know them all.

“Mostly I was just...kinda thinking maybe I’m still dreaming,” he admitted with a short chuckle. “In a good way. Not in a dream inside of a dream inside of a dream that I have to scream myself awake from kind of way.” He hoped that would make sense to her.

Lydia chuckled, “Well I certainly hope not,” she said pressing herself closer to him, “I’d hate to think you’d want to wake up screaming from spending time with me,” She told him with a shake of her head.

Stiles grinned, watching her with nothing short of adoration. “Definitely not, Ms. Martin.” He kissed the tip of her nose, pausing when the doorbell rang. “I should get that. I have a feeling it’s something important.”

Lydia arched an eyebrow amused, “More important than me?” She asked her tone playful. She wasn’t sure what it was about Stiles, but she felt like she could be herself around him. Lydia didn’t need to keep up walls the way she did with the other people she’d been with since Jackson.

“Of course not.” He kissed her cheek lightly, then moved to open the door, stepping aside when he saw it was who he’d expected. “If you just wanna set them on the kitchen table.” He pointed the flower delivery man in the direction of the kitchen, looking over at Lydia briefly and holding his left hand out to her.

Lydia hesitated, but reached for his hand and threaded their fingers together as she watched the delivery man follow Stiles directions and set the flowers on the table. “What’s all this?” She asked softly as she glanced back at Stiles.

He dug some money out of his wallet and handed it to the delivery man for a tip before letting out a breath. “You said your sister liked calla lilies.” He bit his lip, looking at the bundle of flowers that was on the left. “My mom liked tulips.” He shrugged.

Lydia stepped closer to the table finally taking notice of the second vase of flowers sitting there. Her chest tightened as she spotted the calla lilies. Stiles had ordered flowers for her sister. He went out of his way to do something nice for her, something that meant more than he probably knew.

When Lydia turned around to face him she couldn't quite hide the emotion in her eyes and she didn't want to. “You ordered flowers for my sister?” She asked softly.

Stiles held his breath at the look on her face and he nodded, chewing his lower lip. “It felt like the right thing to do. I mean after everything…” He swallowed hard, looking at the flowers for a moment, and then back at Lydia. “Is that okay?”

Lydia closed the distance between them and reached out gripping his waist gently. “It’s more than okay, I can’t believe--” her voice cut off as her chest warmed, “No one has ever done anything that thoughtful for me before.” Lydia explained.

“Thank you,” she said softly before tilting her head up and pressing a kiss to his lips. Lydia wanted to say more, but she was too overwhelmed by the emotion building in her chest. Stiles was a good guy, better than she deserved.

Stiles wasn’t entirely surprised by her admission. Her previous relationships had been with guys who were so out of touch with who she was that it was actually ridiculous. They probably hadn’t even known she’d had a sister, or if they did, they hadn’t cared enough to mention it or bring her up.

He cupped her cheek gently as he returned the kiss without hesitation. “You’re welcome.” It was why he’d asked her that morning if she had any traditions on her sister’s anniversary, because he knew how important it was to remember lost loved ones. He’d ordered both bouquets before heading to second period that morning.

Lydia shook her head baffled, “Why are you so good to me?” She asked voicing the thought that had been floating through her head for quite some time. “You’re always there when I need you no questions asked and you always know what to say to make things better,” Lydia pressed her lips together, “I don’t deserve someone like you,” she told him while leaning into his touch.

Stiles blinked, not sure he’d heard her correctly, and not sure if it was her question or her statement surprised him more. After a moment, though, he realized she was utterly serious on both accounts and he stared at her. “Lydia…” He shook his head and then pulled out one of the kitchen chairs, urging her to sit down in it. “Why do you think that?” he asked quietly.

Lydia sat down, her eyes never straying from his face. “Come on Stiles, I spent most of our middle school and part of high school ignoring you.” She said with an arched eyebrow. “Things are different now, but I wasn’t a good person before.” At least not outwardly. She kept up appearances because it was what people had expected of her.

She always got any guy she wanted, but it was never real, not outside of Jackson and look how that had turned out. Lydia hadn’t been able to be herself with him. She had to pretend not to know how to do things and pretend she wasn’t as smart as she was to feed Jackson’s ego and as much as she loved him back then, he’d never treated her right.

But Stiles, he was the opposite. All he did was care about her even when she hadn’t cared about him. “I’m not used to...being so important to someone.” She admitted.

He was silent for a moment, gazing at her. Then he sat down in the chair beside her, taking her hands in his. “You don’t remember, do you?” He shook his head a little, leaning forward. “The week after my mom...and Elizabeth...we were both back at school. Scott was out sick because he’d had an asthma attack. I started crying at lunch.” He blew out a breath, looking down for a moment and then back up at her.

“A couple of kids from two grades ahead of us started picking on me, calling me names. You got up from your seat in this extremely dignified, classic Lydia Martin way, walked over to where we were, and you kicked one of them so hard in the knee he actually fell down.” He arched his eyebrows. “The other kid ran away he was so afraid of you. And that is when I knew that there was only one girl for Stiles Stilinski.” His eyes were sad as he gazed at her.

“Lydia. I’ve seen you do a million tiny kind things for people over the years when you didn’t think anyone was paying any attention. I was paying attention.” He smiled a little. He lifted her hands to his mouth, kissing her knuckles gently. “So you can get used to being important to someone because well. Now that you have me, you’re stuck with me, so…” He shrugged nonchalantly, voice turning playful.

A hint of moisture filled Lydia’s eyes and she couldn’t help internally rolling her eyes at herself for being so emotional. Lydia did remember that day, but what she hadn’t known was that Stiles saw her. She hadn’t realized he knew she did that. But she remembered being so angry that they were teasing him. After all she knew what it felt like to lose someone she loved and just because she hadn’t cried in front of people it didn’t mean she didn’t want to.

“I love you,” she kept her eyes on his, “I really do.” Lydia hadn’t been sure before, she knew she cared about him, but love was big and when she told him she thought she was falling for him, Lydia should have realized she already had.

Stiles held her gaze, holding his breath at her words, and gently squeezing her hands. “And I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.” He smiled softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling her into a hug.

Lydia wrapped her arms around him, returning the hug. “Man, you’ve got this boyfriend thing down,” she teased lightly breaking the seriousness in the room. She ran her hand up and down his back. “So, dinner?” She asked trying to push all the heavy stuff away for the moment.

At that, he grinned. He’d never had a chance to do the boyfriend thing before, so it was nice to hear that he was doing it right. “Dinner,” he agreed, kissing her softly before rising to his feet. His dad would be home in a little over an hour. It was about the perfect amount of time for eggplant lasagna.

______

 

Lydia bit down hard on a piece of celery as she glanced at her nails. She was in desperate need of a manicure. Maybe she’d get one after she got out of her boyfriend’s mind that weekend. She pursed her lips. Just knowing that they were less than a day away from doing the ritual had her stomach in knots.

Lydia had a bad feeling. It had been there ever since she woke up that morning. But she wasn’t sure if it was nerves or something she should actually be worrying about. Lydia sighed and took another bite of her celery annoyed with the fact that she couldn’t distinguish her own feelings. A light breeze ruffled her hair but she didn’t bother pushing it away from her face as she half listened to her friends sitting around her talking.

Lydia wasn’t the only one on edge. Stiles had pushed food around his plate off and on for the past ten minutes but had only taken two very small bites. If anyone asked, he planned to tell them that it was school food so of course it was crap. He hadn’t had nightmares the previous night, exactly. More like a restless sleep that had resulted in restless dreams, just various broken images and words that had floated through his mind, that least of all included the Nemeton, and Peter Hale. Beyond that, everything was too fleeting or too unimportant for him to recall.

His foot bounced rapidly on the concrete beneath the picnic table where they were all seated. It was nothing new, really. Stiles was always fidgeting or moving somehow. He could practically feel the tension rolling off Lydia beside him and after a moment, he just gave in and reached over, lacing their fingers together without actually looking at her.

Lydia blinked, the feel of Stiles’ hand on hers startling her from her thoughts. She squeezed it and continued eating her celery.

Scott frowned when he realized Stiles wasn’t paying attention to him. He nudged his friend’s foot under the table and cocked his head to the side, “You okay man?” He asked quietly. He was worried about the ritual tomorrow, they all were, but Scott could see how preoccupied Stiles and Lydia were and he wished there was something he could do.

He felt the change in her tension level almost immediately and his own lowered just a little until Scott nudged him. He drew in a breath and glanced at him silently, offering him a silent, one shouldered shrug in return. There wasn’t really a point in trying to lie to Scott because not only did Scott know him too well, he could also hear Stiles’ heartbeat. And while his heartbeat was probably faster than usual thanks to the Adderall he took daily, he knew even a tiny lie would result in some kind of change in his heart’s rhythm. At the end of the day, he just doesn’t want to lie to Scott at all, so he remained silent instead.

Allison, sensing something was amiss, looked around at their group, a troubled expression on her face. She had no doubt their minds were on the ritual they were doing tomorrow night. If she’d said she wasn’t a little nervous about it, she’d be lying, too. It was a big deal. Maybe not quite as dangerous as the one they’d done a few weeks ago that had resulted in three of them dying for seventeen hours, but going into another person’s subconscious certainly didn’t come without risks, she was sure of that much. She shifted closer to Isaac, just a little, as if somehow being physically closer would prevent anything terrible from happening to any of them.

Isaac felt Allison shift beside him, the outside of her leg brushing against his. He reached out and rested a hand on her thigh, a gesture of comfort. It wasn’t hard to see that everyone around them were lost in their own thoughts. He lifted his hot dog in his free hand and took bite as he observed their friends. “That history test from the other day was pretty hard,” he said breaking the silence around the lunch table figuring someone had to.

She reached down, covering his hand with her own. “Yeah, I’m not sure I did very well on it.” Even though they’d studied together for a few hours, Allison still wasn’t sure she’d actually passed it. She tried to chalk it up to worry about everything that was going on, but truthfully she’d been pretty distracted by Isaac himself.

Scott nodded, “Yeah, me either.” he said joining the conversation. “All the studying in the world wasn’t going to help me there,” he said with half a smile. It was true, but he was pretty sure it was because he was too preoccupied with what was going on to retain the information.

A tiny smirk tugged at the corners of Stiles’ mouth and he glanced at Lydia sideways, remembering her comment about enjoying throwing the grading curve. No doubt she had. He gave her hand a squeeze and looked over at the rest of his friends. “One out of five of us doing well isn’t bad.”

“Doing well at what?” Kira asked curiously as she walked up a second later, sitting down on the other side of Scott and setting her lunch bag down.

“The history test from the other day,” Allison supplied, offering her a small, friendly smile.

Scott smiled; he’d been waiting for her to get there. “What about you?” He asked lightly, “How’d you do?” He asked trying to include her in the conversation even though he was pretty sure none of them cared.

Kira joining them at the table got Lydia’s attention. She had promised Stiles she’d give the other girl a chance and she intended to, but at the same time having someone outside their group around right now with everything going on made her anxious. She brushed her thumb over Stiles’ hand and did her best to push aside all the conflicting emotions inside of her.

“Um, okay I think? Not terrible, but not the best, either.” She pulled a sandwich out of her bag and took a little bite of it.

Stiles did the same to her hand with his thumb, almost like a tiny game of comfort that neither of them realized they were even engaged in. “Well I had to be the bearer of bad news, guys, but pretty sure Lydia aced it as usual.” He smiled.

That brought a smirk to Lydia’s face, “Of course I did,” she said enjoying the way Stiles boasted about her grade. He was sweet. He was hers. But for how much longer? A voice in the back of her head provoked. Lydia dropped the rest of her celery stick in disgust and shifted closer to Stiles not even bothering to make the move discrete.

She took her other hand crossing it over her body and rested it on the arm of the hand that was holding hers.

Scott followed the movement, the sound of Lydia’s heartbeat elevating slightly making him frown. He didn’t realize he was staring until Lydia’s voice echoed around their table.

“Why are you staring? Do you have some kind of ynotophobia McCall?”

Scot blinked, “A wha-”

Lydia continued, “Because if you have a fear of living I can gladly fix that for you.” She said eyes turning to slits.

Scott shook his head quickly, “No, no I wasn’t staring I was just…” He struggled to find the words that would appease the glaring redhead, but couldn’t seem to find them. Scott glanced at Stiles with a pleading look for help not particularly wanting Lydia’s ire aimed at him and hoping his best friend would smooth over the little bump that was quickly forming.

Allison frowned, too, because Lydia was clearly upset, and she couldn’t figure out what Scott had done to piss her off that quickly.

Stiles felt her move closer to him and then both of her hands were on his. She wasn’t pissed, he realized, even though it was coming out that way. She was scared. Lydia being scared made his anxiety spike because it meant she was probably having one of her bad feelings and considering what they were doing tomorrow…

His whole body tensed involuntarily. “Okay let’s just...talk about the thing that’s bothering all of us right now because it’s better than lunch hour ending in blood.” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, glancing at his girlfriend.

Kira was the only one at the table who looked uncertain about what was going on and he sighed softly. It really wasn’t fair for her to be part of their group and have no clue about what was happening. He looked at Scott, searching his best friend’s eyes for a moment, and then looking past him to Kira.

“Awhile back, before you got here, we had to do this thing. A ritual. It was dangerous, but we didn’t have a choice,” he began.

Scott picked up where Stiles left off. “We did it to save our parents who sort of got caught up with a Darach and ritual sacrifices,” he said wincing. God, Kira was never going to want to spend time with him after she found out all of this crap. Welcome to my life, Scott thought. “Anyway the ritual opened our minds up to...dark things that are out there.”

“Bardo,” Lydia supplied knowing Kira would make the connection now since that was the first thing she heard them all talking about. Plus Scott was just taking too long and she didn’t have her normal patience span, not that it was overly long typically. “Stiles and his over busy head didn’t get the memo to close the door, so I’m going to go in there and help him close it.” She told Kira flippantly like it wasn’t a big deal even though the closer the got to the ritual the more that weird feeling in the pit of her stomach clenched.

Allison eyed her best friend with concern. Lydia was being much less patient than usual, even though she knew her best friend wasn’t really known for an overabundance of patience. “And the rest of us have to be there so they can draw strength from us to do that,” she added.

Stiles rubbed his thumb over her wrist soothingly. “And we have to do it on the full moon.”

“Because that’s when the energy for most people is highest,” Kira finished, looking around at all of them. She looked at Scott. “So tomorrow then.”

Scott sent her half a smile, but it came out as more of a wince. “Yeah,” he said quietly before glancing around the table at his friends. “We’re just a little tense. The last ritual we did had a few unpleasant side effects,” though the truth was he was scared. He didn’t want to lose his best friend, his brother. Scott didn’t know what he’d do without Stiles.

Isaac cleared his throat to get Kira’s attention, “They’re afraid Lydia is gonna wind up stuck in Stiles’ head and then the two of them will just be one giant clusterfuc-- what?” he asked when everyone turned to look at him. Isaac hunkered down in his seat beside Allison. “I was just trying to fill Kira in,” he mumbled.

Stiles glared at him. “Helpful, as always,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair.

Allison patted Isaac’s leg gently, a strained smile on her face and looked at Kira again. “So we’re all a little more on edge than usual.”

Sighing softly, Stiles reached out and laid his free hand on Scott’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze because he could tell that his best friend was as worried about all of it as he and Lydia were.

“It sounds like there’s a good reason for everyone to be,” Kira said, hesitant as she looked around. “Is...I mean, is there anything I can do to help?”

Scott opened his mouth to tell her ‘no’ but paused. “I’m not sure. I mean given what you...what we are your energy might be different. I can ask Deaton if it would be helpful, I mean if you don’t mind. You don’t have to help, Kira.” He wanted to make that clear. Scott would never put anyone he cared about in intentional harm, which was why he’d let everyone make their own decision about helping Stiles.

Isaac angled his head watching the interaction. He knew that sometimes he said the wrong thing, but it wasn’t intentional. He wasn’t always sure how to act in these situations and a lot of the time he just said the first thing that came to mind. That was one thing Derek had never yelled at him about, he supposed because the former Alpha tended to do the same thing most of the time except he didn’t really care what people thought of him, or he used to not care.

He pulled himself from his thoughts as he watched Scott reach out and place a hand over Kira’s on top of the table.

“I mean it; I don’t want you to feel like you have to help.” Scott said quietly though he’d never push help away especially if it was going to make things safer for Stiles.

Kira looked down at their hands, then up at him, her eyes reflecting worried. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to,” she said honestly. She glanced past him to look at Stiles and Lydia. “You’ve all been really nice to me and if there’s a way I can help, I want to do it. I mean I’m still new to all of this, but…” She shrugged a little, looking back at Scott. “I’ll help if I can.”

Stiles smiled faintly at her, and then glanced at Lydia. “I’m sure we can figure something out, right, Lyds?” He squeezed her hand.

Lydia nodded, “Right, according to the ritual the more energy we have the more effective it will be. Stiles and I can draw on it from within the circle.” She explained.

Scott’s brows drew together, “I thought the ritual was written in some weird language, that’s why Deaton needed to get everything together for us.” He said though now he wasn’t so sure.

Lydia sighed, “Not some strange language. Latin,” she corrected, “And some Gaelic thrown in for good measure. I can read both. I asked Deaton for a copy of the ritual a couple of days back.” She explained. She hadn’t said anything about it, but she wasn’t trying to keep it a secret. Lydia just wanted to know what the ritual entailed and she got tired of waiting for everyone to explain it to her.

Stiles knew she had it, it was on his desk though she guessed if he couldn’t read it he probably didn’t know what it was, but Lydia could have sworn she mentioned it to him in passing. After all she did like to be prepared.

Stiles grinned, an almost involuntary reaction to Isaac and Scott’s shocked expressions. “I did mention that my girlfriend is incredibly brilliant, right? Because she is and she teaches herself how to read ancient languages when she’s bored.” He looked at her proudly, letting go of her hand and wrapping his arm around her waist.

Kira grinned at the pride in Stiles’ voice. “Then count me in,” she told Lydia.

Lydia flushed, her cheeks actually filled with warmth and she was pretty sure they were going rosy on her. God, something was wrong with her. She huffed, but there was a mixture of humor and affection in her gaze as she glanced at Stiles. “This relationship is going to work just fine if you keep feeding my ego like that,” she commented jokingly, but it was the first time anyone had boasted about her prowess is something that wasn’t looks, sex, or attitude and she loved Stiles all the more for that.

Lydia let her gaze flutter over to Kira and she nodded, “Thanks,” she smiled at the brunette realizing that Stiles might be right. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

______

 

Stiles was getting increasingly anxious as the day wore on. At Lydia’s behest, he spent a few hours after school with Scott, as if she sensed how much the brothers needed some time together. Which meant she was really worried. And that in turn, made him really worried. And he had a feeling they were both worried for very different reasons. She was afraid for Stiles and Stiles was afraid for her.

He let himself in his house with the spare key they kept hidden in a little box beneath a pile of rocks in one of the front flower beds since he’d given Lydia his key since she was staying with them. He knew she’d gone home to see her mom for awhile after school, but it was after seven and he was pretty sure she was back by now. The house, though, was utterly silent.

His dad was working a late shift. Even Prada was nowhere in sight. It was almost eerie. He flipped on the light in the living room because it was already getting dark outside and everything in him just felt...unsettled. He slowly trudged up the stairs toward his bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot and pausing when he saw Lydia there, lying on her stomach, book open in front of her as she read.

“Hey,” he said softly, shrugging off his backpack and setting it down beside his desk. He smiled a little when Prada emerged from under his bed, wagging her tail. “Hey there.” She barked excitedly and trotted over to him. He picked her up and sat down beside Lydia on the mattress.

Lydia glanced away from her book and at Stiles, a smile pulling at her lips when she saw him holding Prada. She was surprised by how much her dog liked him. Then again it was hard not to like Stiles. “Hey,” she said as she marked her page and closed the book. Lydia hadn’t gotten much reading done, maybe half a book, which wasn’t much since the book was short, but she hadn’t been able to concentrate, she was worried.

She sat up resting on her knees and reached out to pet Prada as she spoke. “Did you have fun with Scott?” She asked as she glanced up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah. We played Call of Duty and his mom made us spaghetti for dinner. Which reminds me...did you eat? I could make something,” he offered, arching his eyebrows.

Lydia nodded, “I heated up some leftovers and took some to your Dad and I ate the rest.” She said as she tossed the book aside. “I’m glad you had fun.” She said genuinely as she reached out and ran a hand down his arm. “I saw my Mother, completely obvious to the fact that I haven’t slept in my own bed for the past week,” Lydia said with a sigh. “Though I’m not sure why I’m surprised. She did however notice Prada was missing.” Lydia added.

The breath caught in his throat at her first statement. She’d taken leftovers to his dad for dinner. Gently setting Prada down on the bed, he reached out, tucking some hair behind her ear and pressing his lips to her forehead. “Thanks. For taking care of my dad.” His eyes were sad as she went on, talking about how her mother hadn’t noticed her absence, but she’d noticed Prada’s absence. There was something so inherently wrong with that, Stiles couldn’t even find words for it. “What’d you tell her?”

Lydia shrugged, “That I was staying with Allison because Mr. Argent was out of town on a buying trip again.” She told him with half a smile. “Plus side, that’s going to make sleepovers really easy for us in the future.” She said keeping her voice bright as she leaned in and brushed her lips against his. “Maybe I can convince you to come and sleep at my house next time.”

Stiles closed his eyes, kissing her back softly, and nodding. That was a great alibi, really. Especially since her mom wasn’t in on the whole supernatural secret, and there was little to no chance she’d be calling to check up on her whereabouts. Which was actually depressing. He missed his mother terribly, but he still had his dad. Lydia’s parents were both alive; they just didn’t take time to spend with her or get to know her. They had no idea how amazing she was. They were missing out on so much. And so was Lydia, really. Wordlessly, he wound his arms around her. It was horribly unfair to Lydia. “That wouldn’t be difficult. Pretty sure you could convince me to do just about anything.”

Lydia chuckled as she leaned into Stiles. “You shouldn’t tell me that or I’ll make you do all kinds of questionable things,” she said teasingly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

He smirked. “Questionable things, huh? Well, I do a lot of those already, so hey, partners in crime. Though I have to admit, I’m curious as to what you consider questionable things, and my interest is definitely high.”

Lydia chuckled but the smile fell from her face a minute later. She stayed where she was though in Stiles’ arms. “Tell me everything is going to be fine tomorrow.” She said suddenly. “I just need to hear it from someone who isn’t me.” She had been worried all day and while some of her anxiety had teetered off, there was still a chunk left.

When her voice dropped a little, he held his breath, gently rubbing her back as he shut his eyes. “It’s gonna be fine. I mean we’ll have the whole pack there and, look at all the crazy things we’ve been through together.” He was glad that he sounded more assured than he actually felt.

Lydia smiled and shifted back so she could see his face. She cupped his cheek, “Thanks,” she said before her smile widened into a grin. “Maybe sometime I’ll ask you to do one and you’ll see.” She said as Prada gave a soft bark trying to get them to pay her some attention. Lydia glanced at her as she moved in circle on Stiles bed.

Lydia shook her head, “She’s going to miss you when we go back home.”

“Oh I do hope so.” He grinned at her, too, then looked at Prada, chuckling as he reached out to pet her. “Yeah, well. I don’t plan to stay away so she’ll still see me plenty.” He shook his head in amusement as Prada settled herself on his lap, laying her head down on his knee.

“Good, because I’ll probably miss you too,” Lydia said as she flipped some of her hair over her shoulder and shifted plopping down on the bed so she was resting back against the pillows. “I picked up a few more outfits from home and put a couple in your closet for the next couple of days, I hope that’s okay.” She figured she’d stay with him for a day or two after the ritual just to make sure he was okay.

“Of course it is,” he told her, shifting Prada gently back to the bed and lying down beside her. He was quiet for a moment. “Maybe you should just leave a few things here for future purposes. You know, so you don’t have to worry about it at the last minute sometime.” He looked at her to see what her reaction would be.

Lydia shifted on her side and arched an eyebrow, humor glittering in her eyes. “Stiles Stilinski, are you anticipating me staying here often? Alone together?” She asked biting the inside of her cheek to keep the smile from pulling at her lips.

“It is definitely on my list of top five things that I hope will be happening, yes,” he told her with a nod. Then he realized that it might have sounded a little too presumptuous. He had a bad habit of digging himself into awkward holes and then burying himself deeper. “You know. I mean, only if you want that too.”

Lydia couldn’t hide her smile anymore as she shifted closer to Stiles and rested a hand on his chest. “There’s probably no way you can keep me out of this bed for long,” she whispered. “But I think it’s kind of cute when you get all flustered.”

A faint blush rose to his cheeks and he shook his head. He was pretty sure if he thought about what she said for too long his brain would actually explode. They’d been sharing his bed for days now and it was almost hard to imagine sleeping alone again. He wondered if that was going to be a problem for them later on. “Good thing I’m flustered a lot then, I guess,” he said with a short laugh.

Lydia chuckled, “Good thing.” She rolled her eyes playfully and sat up. “It’s getting late; I’m going to go take Prada for a quick walk.” She said as she carefully climbed over him and stood up. “I’ll be right back.” She told him as she went over to his desk to grab her heels that were lying on the floor.

Nodding, he watched her as she picked Prada up and headed for the door before sitting up. “Yeah, okay. I’m gonna take a quick shower.” He yawned, raking a hand through his hair and climbing to his feet, as well.

“See you in a little bit,” She called out before heading for the front door. Lydia spent fifteen minutes walking Prada around the Stilinski neighborhood before finally making her way back to the house. She gave Prada some fresh food and water and put her leash down before heading back upstairs to Stiles bedroom.

Lydia heard the shower still going as she passed the bathroom and paused by the door briefly before shaking her head and stepping into his bedroom. She glanced around momentarily the heavy feeling still sitting in her chest. She wished she knew what it meant or didn’t mean. Either way Lydia was worried.

What if tomorrow’s ritual turned out worse than the other one? What if after everything she failed? What if she couldn’t help Stiles? Lydia would never forgive herself. She tried to push the thoughts plaguing her aside and walked over to her bag. She bent down and pulled it onto Stiles desk, the pink color standing out in his room.

She rummaged through it for pajamas and paused when something caught her eye. Lydia bit her bottom lip as she gripped the black material and pulled it out of her bag. She must have thrown it in their earlier and not even realized...or maybe it was her subconscious sending her a message, either way the second she saw it she knew it was definitely what she’d be wearing to bed tonight.

Lydia yanked it out of her bag and tossed it on the bed before dropping her bag to the floor again and undressing. She kicked her heels off first and then unzipped her skirt. Lydia pushed it to the ground seconds later and her blouse and bra followed soon after.

She reached for her nightgown and pulled it over her head before picking up her scattered clothes. Lydia placed them in her bag and then reached up and let her hair down shaking it out with her hand. She tossed the clip on Stiles’ desk and turned heading for the bed. Lydia situated herself so she was lying in the middle against the pillows. She reached for her book again and opened it waiting somewhat impatiently for Stiles to get out of the shower.

Stiles took a long, hot shower, trying to soothe some of the anxiety and tension out of his body. He’d been stressed all day and sometimes the hot water, while not soothing of the internal workings of his brain, helped his tight muscles at least a little. The steam from the water helped him breathe a little better, as well. That was a trick he’d learned once from Scott’s mom when Scott had an asthma attack once. He took several long, slow, deep breaths and let them out slowly before lathering his body up with soap and washing it all away a few moments later.

God he was terrified. He was terrified for the possibility that Lydia was going to end up with some kind of terrible consequences for her involvement in a ritual that could go wrong. He was terrified that he was going to lose himself in the ritual and that because of that his dad and Scott were both going to suffer the consequences. He swallowed hard, wondering if maybe it would just be better for everyone involved if he just dealt with the nightmares. He was worried about what an open door in his mind meant for not only him, but for the people he cared about, and really, for all of Beacon Hills. Deaton had warned that having it open for very long would have dire effects.

Stiles was sick of dire effects and sick of rituals and sick of terrible things happening to everyone he cared about. He rarely complained about any of it, but it didn’t mean it didn’t affect him or stress him out. Truthfully his nerves were frayed more often than not anymore and he didn’t know how to fix that really. It felt like everything was a huge struggle just to survive each day anymore, and to survive each day with some semblance of sanity felt like a tiny victory.

He stepped out of the shower, drying off and pulling on an oversized Beacon Hills shirt and a pair of sweat pants before cleaning the bathroom up and heading back across the hall and into his room where his gaze fell on Lydia.

In a very sexy, very revealing nightie.

He nearly stumbled over his own feet, catching himself with an arm on the doorframe as he stared at her wide-eyed and open mouthed. Speech? Absolutely out of the question.

Lydia closed her book with a resounding thud. “Well that took long enough.” She said lightly as she tossed her book aside. “Good shower?” She asked amused at the expression on his face. Lydia liked that she could wow Stiles. She liked the way he looked at her.

“Uh.” He swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off her. “Shower?” he echoed dumbly.

Lydia bit back her smile as she shifted on the bed sliding her body to the edge until her feet hit the floor. She paused eyeing Stiles before standing up slowly and closing the distance between them. Lydia ran her hands down his arms and leaned forward taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.” She said keeping her tone soft.

Stiles’ eyes widened even more as she actually approached him, holding his breath as she slid her hands down his arms. “Thanks,” he murmured. “You look…” Actually he couldn’t think of a single adjective to describe how she looked. He’d seen her like this once before, a long time ago, but things had been really, really different back then.

Lydia tilted her head to the side. “I look?” She let her voice trail off in question as she took a step closer their bodies practically brushing against each other. “Do you like the way I look Stiles?” The words were soft and calm as she let her hand grip his and guided it to her hip.

Oh, god. And now he was touching her while she was dressed in very little clothing and he couldn’t really think at all. “God yes,” he breathed. “So very much yes.” He gulped as she moved closer.

Lydia tilted her head up and brushed her lips against his jaw as she let one of her hands play with the hem of his shirt. “Would you like it better if I wasn’t wearing it?” She asked her voice barely a whisper as she shrugged her right shoulder letting the strap slip just a little down her shoulder.

A tiny sound escaped him that was somewhere between a gasp and a groan as he watched the strap slip down her shoulder. He’d had dreams like this so many times over the years he’d literally lost track of how many he’d had. Was this really happening? He hesitated a second before reaching up, his fingertips ghosting over her shoulder, like he couldn’t resist the urge to touch her bare skin.

Lydia inhaled deeply and she glanced away from his hand on her shoulder to Stiles’ face. She slipped a hand beneath his shirt resting it on his chest as she leaned into him, this time pressing her body against his trapping her hand between them. “Stiles?” his name fell off her lips in a soft voice as she looked at him from beneath her lashes.

He leaned back against the wall, not at all bothered by her assertiveness even if he was still kind of dazed. “Yeah?” His gaze had dropped to her mouth, his heart beating much faster than normal.

“I love you,” Lydia said the words falling off her lips easier each time she said them. “I don’t want to wait.” She paused, “I mean unless you want to wait.” Lydia hadn’t considered that he might want to. “I just, I want you.” Lydia said simply. It wasn’t the smoothest she’d ever been, but this was different. This wasn’t some random hook-up that she shoved against the wall or into a chair and climbed on top of.

This was Stiles. He was the first person who had meant anything to her since Jackson. And she wanted to do this right.

“I love you, too,” he said quietly, relaxing a little at her easy utterance. His heart still thundered in his chest and he wondered distantly why the hell he would want to wait. He definitely did not want to wait and pass up this opportunity. “No, no, I don’t want to wait at all. Definitely not.” He hesitantly reached out, settling his hands at her hips and kissing her softly. “Just uh...just wait for like, two minutes, okay?” He arched his eyebrows, kissing her again and then sliding away from her and heading out of the room. If they were going to do this, they were going to do this right.

Lydia blinked confusion settling on her face. She opened her mouth, but closed it and sat on the edge of Stiles bed. He had asked her to wait and she would. But now she was feeling nervous. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was Lydia Martin; she had nothing to be nervous about.

He returned a moment later carrying an armful of candles, a lighter, and a box of condoms. He set the candles on his nightstand and some on his desk, lighting them with a shaky hand and cuing up his iPod to a playlist he’d long ago entitled, “Lydia.” Chewing the inside of his cheek, he turned to face her, setting the box on the bed before going to shut the door, locking it just in case his dad would get home early or something.

Lydia’s heart warmed as she glanced around the room taking in the candles and the soft music playing in the background. Her gaze met Stiles’ when he turned around from locking the door. She didn’t know what to say. Lydia swallowed hard trying to control the emotion she felt building in her chest. “It’s incredibly difficult for people to surprise me,” she said finally. “But you always surprise me, catch me off guard.” Lydia stood up and closed the distance between them. “Dozens of guys have called me attractive and tried to get my attention, but you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel beautiful and special just for being me,” Lydia said softly as she cupped his cheek. “Kiss me.”

All Stiles could think was all of the guys she’d ever gone out with, or who’d expressed interest in her were deeply, deeply stupid. He on the other hand, was patient because he knew she was worth it. She deserved the best. Stiles lifted a hand to her cheek, leaned in and did what he was told.

Lydia wrapped an arm around Stiles neck as she moved her lips over his deepening the kiss. His mouth was warm and he tasted like mint. She could feel her lungs burning with a need for air, so, she broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his for a minute.

Lydia trailed her fingers down Stiles’ arm until she was able to grasp his hand. She gave a gentle tug to his hand as she took a step back towards the bed.


	12. Chapter 12

He woke up sometime the next morning, his body completely relaxed as he lay in bed, Lydia’s head resting on his chest, her hair spread out over his skin. He held his breath for a moment, slowly lifting his hands and counting his fingers. He exhaled slowly when he only counted to ten. This was real. Somehow. He laid his head back down on the pillow, gazing at her sleeping form with warmth in his eyes. She was real. They’d spent the night together, making love and holding each other and talking.

I’m not a virgin anymore, he thought with a tiny grin.

He reached down and gently slid his fingers through her hair. God she was so beautiful it almost hurt. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, letting his eyes close once more as he thought about what the day was going to bring. Tonight was the ritual. One way or another it was going to be over with. He just prayed that they were all going to make it out. He’d faced death more than once because running with wolves tended to have a high price. He’d actually died not that long ago. For sixteen hours. It had been terrifying but he’d done it willingly to save his dad’s life. But facing the possibility -- again -- that Lydia might die…

It was more than terrifying. That it might happen because of him was almost paralyzing. His breathing hitched and he swallowed hard, digging his nails into the palm of his hand. Don’t panic, he thought, willing his body to obey his thoughts for a change. Stay calm.

Lydia frowned in her sleep and shifted slightly her legs brushing against warm skin. She could feel the pressure of a hand in her hair and suddenly her chest was filled with an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Her eyes flew open with a soft gasp and her hands clenched the body beneath her. She blinked, confused and tried to figure out what had startled her awake. The heavy thumping of a heart beneath her head made her lift her head enough to see Stiles. “What’s wrong?” She asked her voice still hoarse with sleep.

Lydia slid one hand across his skin and rested it on his stomach as she watched him trying to figure out what was going on in his head.

Stiles grimaced involuntarily because this was so not how he’d pictured the morning going. Like how romantic honey I’m having a panic attack. Awesome. He opened his eyes, the panic there already obvious on his face. He opened his mouth but couldn’t manage any words, just a panicked inhalation of breath as he shook his head.

It took Lydia a minute to wake up enough to realize what was going on. She gripped the sheet and sat up holding it to her body. “Breathe,” she said as she reached out and gripped Stiles’ cheek. “Come on Stiles, just breathe. Focus on my voice and follow it back to me,” she whispered, her knees digging into the mattress as she sat on them beside him, her heartbeat thudding erratically in her chest as fear curled low in her stomach. Lydia had no idea why he was so worked up or what set him off, but she needed him to calm down.

Nodding so she knew he’d heard her and understood, he exhaled shakily, hot tears stinging his eyes. God how embarrassing. No wonder he’d still been a seventeen year old virgin. He was pathetic. He listened to the sound of her voice, focusing on it as intently as he could and then repeating the deep breathing, pain shooting through his hand as he dug his fingernails into his skin so hard. After a long couple of moments, he nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay. I’m okay.” He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face and shutting his eyes. “God. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Lydia frowned, “Why are you apologizing? Never apologize for something like that,” she responded fiercely. “Hey look at me,” she cupped his cheek, “I love every crazy part of you,” she teased her expression softening. “Are you okay now? Do you need anything?” Lydia hadn’t realized how severe Stiles’ panic attacks were until she just felt one, which was not pleasant in the slightest.

Stiles couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over him when he realized she wasn’t the least bit upset. “I’m okay now,” he whispered, turning his head to look at her, and trying to smile but not quite managing it. He reached up, covering her hand with his. “Thanks.” He exhaled, shoulders slumping a little. “Really not how I planned this morning to go.”

Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Haven’t you learned that planning things out never seems to work for any of us?” She asked, “Playing it by ear always works better.” She knew that Stiles was self-conscious about his panic attacks, but he didn’t need to be. Not with her. Lydia had seen worse and she hated when people gave Stiles a hard time because of them.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess I should have known better, huh?” He rubbed a hand over his face. It had been a long time since he’d had a panic attack in front of anyone other than Lydia or Scott, thankfully. They’d never give him a hard time about it. He hadn’t been so fortunate when he was younger, though. Not when it came to other kids, who didn’t understand things like anxiety or losing a parent at a young age or not being able to sleep at night or having ADD.

Lydia smiled, “I like that you keep trying though, it sort of says a lot about the person you are.” She admitted as she laid back down again resting her head on Stiles’ chest beneath his chin.

“Yeah? You think so?” Stiles slid his hand up and into her hair once more and smiled.

“Good morning,” she said softly as she grinned up at him and brushed a kiss against his lips.

Stiles kissed her back softly as he relaxed back against the pillow. “Good morning,” he whispered as his heart rate began to return to its normal speed once more.

Lydia grinned. “This is nice, just us, relaxing.” she told him as she let her fingertips draw patterns on the skin of his arm. “Do you think your Dad is home?” She asked lifting her head just barely to glance at the clock. It was still early morning, but Lydia figured if the Sheriff was home he probably would have knocked on the door or said something to them.

He considered that for a moment. “I usually wake up when he comes home.” His dad wasn’t always very quiet. Not that he didn’t always try to be, he just wasn’t great at being successful with it. “No, I don’t think so. He probably had to work over. That happens a lot.”

“Hm,” she said thoughtfully, “We should check on him a little later, maybe bring him some breakfast...we can go out and grab something from the diner in town for us and stop by the station after,” Lydia suggested. It was strange, the protective feeling she got when she thought about Stiles and his Father.

Lydia knew it probably sounded silly, but over the past week that she’d been with them, it almost kind of felt like having a real family. Something she didn’t even realize she was missing until it was there.

Stiles’ chest tightened at her suggestion, but in a good way. How had he gotten so lucky? He didn’t know, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if it was all somehow a dream. Like maybe when he’d crashed his jeep a few weeks ago he’d hit his head so hard it sent him into a coma and he was dreaming all of this. The fact that she not only loved him, but seemed to care so much about his dad meant the world to him. “Yeah, that sounds really good, Lyds,” he whispered.

Lydia smiled, “I love when you call me that,” she whispered. It wasn’t something she would normally mention, but she felt like when it was just the two of them she could be as honest as she wanted without being judged for anything she said.

“Yeah?” He made a mental note to call her that more often if he had the chance. If they survived the day. God he hoped they survived the day. He warned his brain to focus on Lydia and not terrible possibilities because that was only going to induce another panic attack.

“We should stay in bed a little longer...it’s warm and you’re comfortable.” Lydia punctuated her statement by sliding her leg between his.

He started to say something else when she slid her leg between his and he swallowed hard. “Uh, yeah, if you keep that up we’re going to be here all day,” Stiles informed her, arching his eyebrows.

Lydia chuckled, “You amuse me.” She pressed a kiss to his chest and sighed. “Fine, ruin my fun. I should probably get up and go shower anyway if we’re going to get breakfast.” She said while glancing up at Stiles from under her lashes. “I could probably be persuaded to let you come with me if you’re so inclined.” She commented as she sat up, the sheet still draped across her body.

Dear God, he thought. I take back every time I didn’t believe you existed. He sat up too. “Uh, yes please. I mean, you know, showering together conserves water, which is good for the environment and I like the environment which is why I don’t litter.” He grinned at her.

A bubble of laughter broke from Lydia’s throat. He was adorable and eager and a lot more attractive than most people gave him credit for. She dropped her feet to the floor and stood bringing the sheet with her. “Well, come on then boy who loves the environment. If we’re quick we might even have some time to be dirty before we get clean.” She said with a wink as she started for the bedroom door.

On second thought, if he did end up dying today, he thought, he’d end up dying really, really happy.

______

 

Isaac gripped the black weapon in his hand his brows furrowing in confusion as he tried to figure out what it did. He ran his hand along the smooth surface before turning and slipping it into the black duffle bag. He had been at Allison’s for close to an hour helping her get things ready to bring over to the ritual.

Technically neither of them needed to bring anything but themselves, but Allison wanted to be prepared for anything and Isaac couldn’t really blame her, especially with their luck. He turned back to the desk and spotted two crossbows, one smaller than the other. “Hey, uh do you want me to toss both of these in the bag?” He asked.

Allison looked over from where she was strapping on her knives, considering. She was seriously hoping they wouldn’t have to utilize any of the weapons she was hauling to Deaton’s for the ritual, but one too many things tended to go wrong when they all gathered outside of school. “Yeah, just in case,” she said quietly, reaching up and tying her hair back into a ponytail. She wanted to keep her hair out of her face just in case, too.

She’d debated on filling her dad in on what was happening, but had decided against it. Really there wasn’t anything he could do except worry and he did enough of that as it was. She’d tell him after it was over, when Stiles and Lydia were both awake again and Stiles wasn’t losing his mind and Lydia wasn’t trapped in his mind.

Isaac nodded and grabbed one at a time dropping them carefully into the bag. When he was finished he turned and watched Allison moving around her face stoic as she strapped on enough weapons to make him nervous. Isaac rested his hand against the desk, “How are you holding up?” He asked casually keeping his tone light.

She kept her eyes on the ground for a moment. “I’m glad we have a plan. I just wish we knew more about how Lydia’s powers actually worked. I mean if we did maybe there would be another way.” She looked up at him. “But...if I said I wasn’t worried you’d know I was lying anyway so...I’m worried.”

Isaac hesitated before taking the few steps to close the distance between them. He placed a hand on her arm and tilted his head to catch her gaze. “It’s okay to be worried. I think everyone’s a little worried.” Isaac admitted. “I’m not sure knowing more about Lydia’s powers would help.” He paused when he realized what he said might be taken the wrong way. “What I meant is that maybe it’s not only her banshee power, but her actual connection to Stiles that’s sort of you know uh helping?” He suggested even though he knew it came out as more of a question.

Isaac wasn’t great at comforting, but he often tried because Allison meant something to him. But he seriously needed to work on his delivery.

Allison looked down at his hand on her arm and then looked up at him, meeting his eyes. She relaxed a bit, nodding and a faint smile tugged at her mouth. “Yeah, you’re probably right. And I know from experience that the easy way usually only makes things harder in the end.” That and most of the time there just wasn’t an easy way to do anything when it came to their kinds of problems. “So...you’re worried, too?”

Isaac shrugged, “I know Stiles and I don’t always get along,” or ever lately, he added silently, “But he’s Scott’s best friend and he’s part of the group, a big part. And Lydia, well I don’t know her well, but what I do know is that’s she’s strong and brave and she’s a really good friend to you.” He responded quietly. “I just want everyone to get out of this alright.” He told her with a shrug, not big on the whole emotional side of things.

“That’s because you’re a good guy, Isaac. And if this calms down soon, I’ll talk to Stiles and find out what his problem is, although I kind of suspect what it is already.” She smiled faintly, reaching up and brushing a stray curl off his forehead.

God, she’s beautiful. Isaac angled his head into her touch a small smile pulling at his lips. He relished the small touches he got from Allison. It was uncommon for people to touch him; really Allison was the only one who did. She was the only person who he didn’t wince at when she reached a hand out to him. Years of abuse by his Father’s hand sort of damaged him in that area.

Not that Isaac didn’t crave human touch; he did especially from the brunette hunter in front of him.

The smile he gave her was one that was too sweet to describe and she found herself unable to stop herself from standing on her tiptoes (why was everyone so TALL?) and kissing him very softly on the lips.

Isaac’s eyes widened in surprise at the feel of her soft lips against his, but his shock didn’t last long. He stepped closer wrapping his hand around her waist slowly and tugged her body against his as he pressed his lips more firmly against hers. The kiss was quick, but he managed to cram as much feeling into it as he could. When he shifted back he was watching Allison closely, “What was that for?”

“Because you were standing there looking very adorable and…” She shrugged. “I wanted to.” A smile tugged at her lips as she watched him. “I’ve been wanting to for awhile. And I know we agreed to wait to figure things out until everything was sorted out with Stiles’ problem, but…”

“But I’m an incredibly attractive werewolf and you couldn’t wait?” He supplied as a silly grin pulled at his lips. “Maybe after tonight we can...get some pizza or something sometime. You know the two of us, just us to be clear.” Isaac added.

Allison grinned. “Isaac, are you asking me on a date?”

“Uh,” Isaac lifted his hand up and scratched the back of his neck, “Well I mean, yeah if that’s what you think we should call it because we can call it something else if you want, I’m open to suggestions.” He offered.

Her eyes were bright as she smiled up at him. “No. I think we can call it a date.” She reached out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze before moving back to finish getting ready. God help her, she was falling for another werewolf.

Her dad? Was going to kill her.

______

 

Scott pulled his bike up to the front of Kira’s house and kicked the stand down letting it idle as he pulled off his helmet. He hooked it on the bar handle finally shutting the bike as he glanced up at her house and pursed his lips. It was less than three hours until the ritual. In less than three hours he was going to be sending his best friend into a sleep that he might not come out of. Lydia too. Scott hated that he had to stay behind and couldn’t be more help other than handing over some of his energy or power, whatever he was doing.

He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. That was another thing that was bugging him. He didn’t exactly know how or what to expect outside of the basics. Deaton was keeping things pretty hush, hush. Scott shook himself from his thoughts, got off his bike and made his way up the path to the Yukimura household. Scott cleared his throat and reached for the bell ringing it gently with his finger.

Kira answered the door only moments later, offering him a smile before she looked over her shoulder. “Dad, I’m leaving for awhile,” she called.

“With Scott, right? Good luck, Honey, I think he likes you, too!” her dad called from another room.

She shut her eyes, cringing. God. So awkward. Face flushed, she turned to look at Scott again.

Scott did his best to hold back his grin at her Father’s words. Personally he liked Mr. Yukimura. “Hey,” he said holding out a hand for Kira to take, “How are you?” Between being worried about Stiles and Lydia all day he had been excited to see Kira. He was glad she offered to help them out and that Deaton thought it was a good idea.

Kira smiled as she took his hand, letting him lead her out of the house as she shut the door behind her. “I’m okay. I’m good. How are you though?” She knew how worried he was about his best friend and Lydia. She didn’t blame him at all. Rituals were heavy things, not that she’d participated in any before. But she’d spent the last twenty-four hours reading about this one, and researching every aspect of it that she could. She was just glad that Lydia had been willing to give her a copy of it.

Scott glanced at Kira and shrugged, “Not great, but I’m holding it together. I guess I’m a little worried about how things are going to go down tonight. Stiles is my best friend,” he paused when they reached his motorcycle and turned to face Kira. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Stiles,” he admitted his voice cracking at the thought. Scott bowed his head and swallowed hard not wanting to lose his cool in front of Kira.

Kira’s heart hurt for him and she hesitated before reaching out and taking his hand in hers. “You’re not going to lose him, Scott,” she whispered.

Scott lifted his head at the feel of her fingers threading through his. “How do you know? Because as much as I try to stay positive I can’t stop my head from going there,” he admitted, pained. “I want to protect him, both of them. There’s this weird sensation in my chest that I’m not fully sure how to describe.” He pressed his lips together, “Like a fight inside myself, one part telling me to trust Lydia to help him and the other a fierce need to try to handle things myself, like he’s my responsibility.”

Scott let out a shaky breath, “I just don’t understand what’s happening, why it feels like this.”

“It’s because you’re the alpha. They’re part of your pack. Of course you feel responsible to protect them. I’ve been doing all this research about...um, wolf packs, which I know isn’t exactly the same thing because werewolves are different, but I think a lot of it still applies. Alphas though, they’re -- I mean they’re the leaders. But the human side of you wants to trust your instincts about your friends so it’s a struggle. You just have to try and find the balance.” Kira looked down for a moment.

Scott stared at Kira in awe. “You researched about wolves?” He didn’t know why he was surprised after all she’d done all that research about Bardo for him. Hours worth of research. Scott squeezed Kira’s hand gently and reached out tilting her chin up with his finger so she was looking at him. “That was really nice of you to do,” he replied softly. “Thanks for wanting to help...and for not running in the other direction with all this crazy stuff that’s going on.” He added with a boyish grin.

She blushed at the look on his face, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear. Despite her shyness she couldn’t help but smile at him when he grinned at her. “Well, you didn’t run in the other direction when I was controlling the electricity that night and...I mean I have no idea what that even means. But um, you’re welcome. Thanks for not...freaking out about that and for letting me help.” Because she really did want to.

Scott laughed quietly, “Well you’ve seen my everyday life, a little electricity controlling isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve seen,” he told her as he reached for his helmet and held it out to her. “Ready to go?” He asked his voice warm.

She shook her head in amusement. “Yeah, I’m ready.” She took the helmet from him, sliding it on her head and fastening it under her chin.

Scott grinned, Kira looked adorable in his helmet. She looked adorable in everything, he thought. Scott cleared his throat. “Lets get out of here then.” He said lightly before swinging a leg over his motorcycle and glancing back at Kira nodding for her to get on behind him. “Don’t forget to hold on tight.”

______

 

Derek sat in his truck outside the small building, his body tense as he stared at the bright lights within. He’d been there for about ten minutes now and he knew he needed to get out and talk to Deaton. He needed to know what he’d done and Derek figured telling him before everyone got there was probably the best idea.

He sighed, pulled his keys out of the ignition and stuffed them into his pocket as he got out of the car. He wore a black fitted t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of black boots figuring if they were going to do this he might as well dress for trouble since it always tended to find them. Derek reached for the door his hand closing around the cool metal as he tugged it open and stepped inside the warm office.

He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. “Deaton,” he called knowing he wouldn’t be able to pass through to the back until the other man opened the gate. Sometimes mountain ash was a pain in the ass.

Deaton emerged from the back room with a small, amused smile on his face. “Derek,” he greeted. “Welcome back.” He hadn’t thought the man would stay away for long. While the eldest Hale certainly had reasons to want to get out and away from Beacon Hills, the town was still his home. It was where his family had come from. He had ties to the place that he didn’t really even understand yet.

He opened the gate, allowing Derek to head toward the back, then he shut the gate once more. It was always a good precaution to take because another werewolf pack showing up was always a possibility, as they’d all learned not that long ago. “Scott told me you’re fixing up your loft.”

Derek let out a grunt and nodded. “It was time.” He answered as he stopped walking and turned so he was facing Deaton. “I was hoping you’d have some time to talk before the ritual.” He glanced around the small back room taking a moment to focus his senses to take in his surroundings. “Are we alone?” He asked eyebrow arching. Derek was pretty sure there were only two human heartbeats, but he wanted to double check.

“I agree,” he said with a nod as he followed Derek until the younger man stopped and turned to face him. “Certainly. And we’re alone unless you’re counting the dozen animals in the back room, yes.” Amusement twinkled in his eyes. “What is it you’d like to discuss, Derek?”

Derek was silent for a minute, but really he wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “Lydia.” He said quietly. “I told her about Elizabeth.” Derek let the words hang in the air.

“Ah. Yes.” Deaton nodded once more, suddenly understanding why he was more solemn than usual. “How did she take it?” He asked, arching his eyebrows.

Derek eyed him warily, “How do you think she took it?” He snapped before taking a deep breath and pursing his lips. “Sorry,” he said gruffly. Derek hadn’t thought it would be hard to tell Lydia about her sister, but bringing it up, going back into those memories...It hurt more than he’d expected.

Derek had been close with Elizabeth, they had been friends, closer than even. But just like Paige, he’d lost her to the life he lived. Maybe she hadn’t died in a supernatural death, but she never would have been in the car that night if it hadn’t been for him. He’d called her telling her about the meeting the pack was having saying she should keep him company. He liked her, genuinely liked her. And when she never made it that night and his Mother came to him telling him the news he’d been inconsolable. Derek had gone to Kate Argent, his then almost girlfriend for consolation, despite the fact that Elizabeth had never liked her. And Elizabeth had been right not to.

Derek shook the thoughts away and slid his hands into his pockets before clearing his throat. “She was surprised, upset, and I’m thinking a little pissed off.” He said as he scratched the back of his head.

If Deaton was offended, his expression didn’t show it. Then again, Deaton rarely ever got offended. He was very laid back most of the time. He’d been living this life for a very long time and he was familiar with testy werewolves and the Hale family had always been full of them. It made him miss Talia even more. If there was one woman who could soothe the angry wolves in her pack, it was Talia Hale.

He was very familiar with the story about Elizabeth, had long ago made the connection to Lydia and to the Stilinski family. He believed that people, for the most part, needed to find the answers themselves because that was what built both wisdom and character. He was there to assist, yes, but not to hand out answers that people weren’t ready to learn about.

“Yes, that sounds about accurate for Lydia.” He smiled faintly, heading into the back. He was quiet for a moment. “How are you feeling now that you’ve told her?”

Derek’s brows lifted in surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had asked how he was feeling, then again he never really gave them much reason to care. “I-” he paused, “I’m not sure. It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be and...I’m worried.” He replied quietly figuring he might as well let Deaton in on his theory.

Deaton pursed his lips, studying Derek for a moment once they reached the back room where he’d been setting up for the ritual most of the day. “What, specifically, worries you?”

“Peter,” Derek responded as he crossed his arms over his chest and glanced around the back room taking in the herbs, books, mountain ash, and wondering how everyone was going to fit back there, but knowing they would. This wasn’t the first ritual that had been held back there. “When I left Beacon Hills with Cora we went searching for something. Something I’m pretty sure Peter didn’t want me to find.”

Derek explained how he found out someone had Talia’s claws and Peter had intercepted him when he tried to take them getting them both kidnapped and almost killed. Then how they were rescued and came back to Beacon Hills. “I needed to ask her something and he reluctantly helped me, but you should have seen him afterwards. The storm that was brewing and I haven’t seen him since.” Derek told him pointedly.

“I don’t trust him. He killed my sister, lured me back here...bit Scott, attacked Lydia,” Derek took a deep breath, “And I think he did it all on purpose. I think his plan all along was to turn a True Alpha and bring out Lydia’s Banshee side...I just don’t know why.”

“Ah, yes. The wayward son.” Deaton nodded slightly as he listened to Derek’s concerns about his surviving uncle. In his opinion, Peter had always been just a shade more morally gray than everyone else, and had only gotten more so with time. He had some valid reasons for being angry, for seeking revenge, even if Deaton didn’t agree with his methods. He understood Peter to a certain extent despite not trusting or liking him. He was fairly assured that Peter felt the same way about him.

“You’re right not to trust him,” he said bluntly. “Peter, on occasion, has good intentions, but he abandons them without second thought when it suits him to do so.” He wasn’t surprised by Derek’s assertion that Peter was plotting. He always seemed to be plotting. “Yes, I’d come to that conclusion as well, though I’m not sure how much he truly played a hand in turning Scott into a true alpha. But I believe you’re right about Lydia.”

Derek considered Deaton’s words, his face pensive. “I feel...like I owe it to Elizabeth to help her,” he admitted grudgingly not enjoying baring his emotions to Deaton or anyone else for that matter. He was silent for several minutes. “I don’t want her to end up like Elizabeth did.” Derek said his voice quiet and somber.

Deaton considered his words carefully, watching Derek for a long moment. “If your instincts tell you that you should be more involved, Derek, you’re the only one who can make that happen.” His voice was gentle. “For what it’s worth, I don’t believe you’d be facing rejection.”

Derek glanced down momentarily before his gaze was back on Deaton. “I’m not good with...people.” It wasn’t always that way. There was a time when he was happy and free and charismatic. Everyone loved him. Derek was pretty sure it was part of the reason he was always helping Scott. The younger wolf reminded him a lot of himself when he was his age. And Derek desperately didn’t want Scott to make the same mistakes he did and turn out like him.

“I don’t know how to be...not anymore.” Derek told him as he dropped his hands and forced his body not to tense at the admission. Showing weakness wasn’t something he enjoyed; people always took advantage of it.

“People take a lot of work. Effort,” Deaton agreed. “After a trauma’s happened sometimes it’s hard to see the value in making that effort to make necessary connections. But werewolves, particularly, even more than humans, crave interaction. They physically need it. It’s why it’s so dangerous for one to be an omega,” he explained carefully. “Your guard is weaker; your ability to actively fight off danger is lessened. Wolves stick to a pack for reasons beyond basic survival, of course. Their capacity to care for and love other members of the pack is immense.” He gazed intently at Derek.

Derek swallowed heavily, “I know that,” he told him his eyes hard. “Don’t you think I understand that? It killed a piece of me when Erica and Boyd died. Losing them was like losing a part of myself.” He stated. “I still feel that every day, my failure to protect them, my failure...in general.” Derek didn’t deserve to be a part of a pack let alone Scott’s pack. He would be there if they needed him, but he didn’t need to bring his failure into their group, his darkness. He didn’t deserve to have that, not again.

“I think that your tendency to underestimate yourself is more dangerous than you think it is,” he said ominously. “To more than just yourself.” He patted Derek’s shoulder lightly before moving about the room to continue the preparations for the ritual.

Derek watched Deaton walk away and he felt something inside his chest tighten at his words. He stood there silently for a minute before turning around and heading back toward the front of the hospital needing some time to himself to think before the ritual. It was time he decided what he wanted once and for all.

______

 

Stiles parked his jeep in the back of the vet’s office and shut the engine off, glancing over at Lydia and releasing a breath. He glanced out the windshield, spotting Allison’s car parked there already and wondering why she was sitting in the car alone. He’d assumed Isaac would have ridden over with her. Maybe Isaac had to pee or something, he thought, shrugging. “Looks like they beat us here.” He exhaled, climbing out of the jeep slowly. When Lydia had done the same, he reached out and took her hand in his before they walked toward Allison’s car, where she was climbing out of the driver’s seat.

“Isaac’s inside,” she explained before either of them could ask. “Deaton and Derek are already here, too. Scott and Kira should be here soon.”

Lydia nodded her hand reflexively tightening around Stiles’. “Good,” she said with a tight smile. She was nervous and she knew Stiles could feel it too, which only seemed to make him more anxious. The sound of a motorcycle pulled Lydia from her thoughts and she turned her just in time to see Scott pull up beside Allison’s car with Kira.

Lydia had to admit the other girl wasn’t so bad.

Scott parked his bike, kicked out the stand and turned it off. He glanced over and spotted Allison, Stiles, and Lydia. He gave them a wave as he waited for Kira to dismount the bike.

Allison reached out and gave Lydia’s arm a gentle squeeze, sensing how anxious she was about everything, then watched as Scott waited for Kira to get off the bike, lifting her hand in a return wave.

Kira slid off his bike, removing the helmet and handing it to him with a small smile before looking around at the others. After a moment she looked at Scott, sensing he was going to need a few minutes with his friends before they started the ritual. “I’ll just go in and see if they need any help with anything.” She offered him a small smile before heading inside the vet’s office.

Scott sent Kira a grateful look even though her back was facing him as she walked away before swinging a leg over his bike and walking toward his friends. He paused in front of Stiles and gave his friend a reassuring smile despite his nerves. “Hey man, how are you holding up?” He asked noticing the tight grip Stiles had on Lydia’s hand.

Stiles looked down at the ground for a moment, and sighed before looking up at him. Then he looked at Allison and Lydia. “We don’t have to go through with this. There’s still time. If anyone wants to back out, it’s fine. No hard feelings.” He held his breath.

Allison frowned, shaking her head and looking at Scott for a second. “I don’t think any of us are going to do that, Stiles.”

Scott nodded in agreement with Allison, “Dude, there’s no way you’re going through this without us. You and me, we’re family.” he said quietly reaching out and clapping Stiles on the shoulder. “We’re going to do this, and it’s when it’s over you’re going to be better than before.” He told his friend matter-of-factly.

Stiles’ chest tightened at Scott’s declaration. It wasn’t like he didn’t feel the same way, but he was terrified that something was going to go wrong and they were all going to get dragged down with him.

“Scott’s right. We’re not leaving you. I’m insulted you’d even try to get rid of us. Don’t you know by now that we’re all in this together?” Lydia shook her head and huffed.

He squeezed Lydia’s hand in response. “I’m not trying to get rid of you. I just don’t want anything to happen to any of you. You’re all my family.”

“And family sticks together,” Allison said firmly. “That’s what we’re doing. It’s what we always do.” She took a breath. “And Scott is right. We’ll get through this and everything will be fine.”

Lydia nodded, because really there was no other option. She would bring Stiles back no matter what.

Scott glanced around at his friend and swallowed hard, “When this is over I say we all get together, order pizza and watch some movies.” He told them with a smile trying to ease everyone’s nerves, “I’m thinking meat lovers pizza.”

“Veggie pizza,” Lydia added as she ran a hand down Stiles’ arm a soft smile pulling at her lips.

“Veggie pizza would be healthier,” Stiles agreed. “We could get one of each.”

Allison smirked. “Maybe two meatlovers and one veggie pizza. I’ve seen Scott and Isaac attack one pizza by themselves.”

Scott chuckled, “And don’t forget Derek, so maybe three meatlovers,” he said lightly his smile slowly disappearing as the last of the sun set. It was time. “We should probably head in and get this over with,” he joked trying to lighten the situation, though Scott knew it wasn’t that easy.

Stiles drew in a breath, nodding slightly in agreement. If they were all going to do this, he wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.

He just prayed that nothing went wrong this time.

It didn’t take them long to make their way into the building and when they did Lydia gave Stiles’ hand another squeeze for support. She saw that Deaton had already placed Derek, Isaac, and Kira in a circle. There were two exam tables next to each other and a circle of mountain ash around them. “Let me guess, we go in the middle,” she said her gaze landing on Deaton. “You are correct, as usual, Lydia,” Deaton agreed with a soft smile, nodding. “If everyone’s ready I believe we should get started.”

Stiles wasn’t sure he was ever really going to be ready for this. But he looked at Lydia, holding his breath and searching her eyes. You don’t have to do this, he thought, tightening his fingers around hers a little.

“How are you going to get them to go to sleep?” Allison asked uncertainly.

Before he could answer, Kira spoke up. “A mild but fast acting sedative is what the ritual suggests.”

Deaton smiled at her. “Precisely.”

Scott didn’t like the sound of that, but he kept his opinion to himself as he nodded and then walked around the circle until he was standing beside Kira.

Lydia sent a sideways glance in Stiles’ direction, “Okay, well let’s get this show on the road, which arm do you need?” She asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Either one will do. It’s personal preference, really.”

“I prefer not to be stuck by a needle, ever,” Stiles grumbled, looking apprehensive for a whole new reason now.

Deaton smiled. “Not to worry. You’ll barely feel it.”

“That’s what they all say.” He carefully stepped over the line of mountain ash, pursing his lips as he looked at it. “What’s up with that anyway?”

“Just to prevent any...concerned individuals if it takes longer than expected.” Deaton looked right at Scott with a raised eyebrow.

Scott made a face. “I get the hint and you know if I really wanted in that circle I’d just got through the mountain ash,” he said petulantly as his gaze traveled over to Stiles. “I’ve got you man, no amount of mountain ash will keep me out, I’m a true alpha.” He said puffing out his chest knowing the words were ridiculous, but hoping to make Stiles smile.

Stiles sat down on the other table, managing to give Scott a small smile for effort.

Isaac snorted, “The true alpha with performance anxiety.” He said as he glanced at Allison with a grin.

Lydia arched an eyebrow as she followed Stiles over the mountain ash and lifted herself up onto one of the tables, sitting with her feet dangling silently keeping her eyes on Stiles. “Once we’re under how long will it take for me to be able to find Stiles?” Lydia asked her tone all business. She wasn’t trying to be cold, but she needed to be rationale. Stiles’ life depended on it.

Stiles turned his attention to Deaton’s response to Lydia’s question.

“With your physical proximity in your conscious state, I don’t think it will take you long,” he assured her. “You already have a strong emotional connection to one another, which should help a great deal.”

Deaton carefully stepped over the line of mountain ash with two syringes that were already drawn up, approaching Stiles first.

Stiles grimaced shooting Scott a look.

“It’s going to be fine,” Scott said noting the look on Stiles’ face. “We’re all right here and we’ll be here when you guys wake up. Trust me.” He whispered. If anything went wrong Scott would be through that barrier faster than inhumanly possibly. He would get to Stiles no matter what.

Lydia reached out a hand and rested it on Stiles’ leg. “Scott’s right.” She replied softly, “In and out. I’ll find you.” She told him as her free hand grasped her necklace.

Derek’s gaze fell to it and his chest tightened at the sight of it on Lydia.

“Yeah, I’m just...not a big fan of needles,” he admitted with a tiny smile in her direction before looking at Scott and nodding. He trusted them both. It was himself he didn’t trust. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”

Deaton nodded, glancing back at the others. “I have to advise against breaching the circle at this point,” he informed them before sticking the needle in Stiles’ arm.

Stiles eyed Deaton warily. “And why’s...oh.” He felt dizziness wash over him. “That works fast.” He laid back on the table, eyes already drifting shut.

He disposed of the syringe before picking up the other and moving over to Lydia next. “Go ahead and lie down,” he suggested.

Lydia could feel her heart slamming against her chest, her eyes on Stiles who was already drifting off. She swallowed heavily to moisten her throat. Lydia lifted her legs up carefully and started to lie down, but paused halfway. “How will I know what he has to do to close the door? When I’m there. It didn’t say in the ritual.”

Scott could hear Lydia’s elevated heartbeat and the hint of anxiety as the octave of her voice rose and he took a step forward. Derek’s hand shot out gently gripping Scott’s arm. He glanced at Derek with an arched brow.

“She’s okay; we don’t want to mess this up. No jumping the gun tonight.” He commented and when Scott reluctantly nodded, Derek released his arm.

“Follow your instincts, Lydia. They won’t steer you wrong,” he told her gently. “Are you ready?” When she nodded, he dispensed the dose into her vein and stepped out of the circle.

“Why can’t we go inside the circle?” Allison asked uncertainly.

“Let’s just say that the effects it could have would be...more than what any of you bargained for,” he said cautiously.

Anxiety crept up Scott’s spine, “What does that even mean?” He asked stepping forward and accidentally hitting the barrier. A sharp stab of pain hit into his skin making him immediately step back. His brows drew together. “That’s different,” he commented. It didn’t usually hurt; well not too much it was more of a shock than anything.

Isaac glanced at the barrier. “Don’t touch the invisible line, got it.” He said as he glanced over their bodies. How do we know if it’s working?”

“Until they wake up, we won’t.” Deaton glanced over at the younger werewolf. “Just try and focus on your feelings for Stiles and Lydia.”

Isaac nodded and focused his attention on Stiles and Lydia. Scott did the same thing his heart heavy hoping that his best friend was doing okay wherever he was.


	13. Chapter 13

Lydia sat up with a gasp, her breathing heavy as she ran a hand through her hair moving it away from her face. Her skin was clammy so she shoved at the blanket covering her body pausing when what she was doing hit her. Lydia’s brows furrowed and she glanced around. It took her a minute to realize she was in Stiles’ bedroom. “What the hell?” She mumbled as she pushed the covers off her legs and dropped them to the ground. “Stiles?” Lydia called out to him again, but he didn’t answer.

The room was dark and silence filled the air around her. Lydia swallowed hard and stood up slowly trying to figure out what was going on. This was the inside of Stiles’ head? It didn’t seem too terrible, but she’d been in one of his dreams before and knew that sometimes it was. Lydia glanced around again pausing when she noticed the closet door open just a crack.

Lydia bit her bottom lip hesitating for less than a second before walking toward the door. She reached for the knob and pulled it open slowly. It was pitch black inside and she could feel her heart starting to pound again. “Hello? Stiles?” Lydia called out again into the darkness, but once again there was no answer.

“Of course not, nothing can ever be easy,” she said under her breath before walking inside. Darkness swallowed her whole and panic settled in when the door slammed behind her. Lydia took off running in the darkness and then she was falling, screaming, the weightless feel of her body making her stomach drop.

Lydia landed with a thud on her hands and knees her eyes squeezed shut tightly. When she realized there was solid ground beneath her palms she let her eyes flutter open and the bright fluorescent lights shone in her eyes burning them. Lydia blinked several times to adjust her vision. She used her hands to push herself up so she was standing on bare feet. Lydia brushed a hand down the gray sweater and cotton pajama shorts she wore and frowned when she realized where she was.

Lydia glanced around the hallway of Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital and felt anxiety stir in her chest. She needed to find Stiles. She stood there in the empty halls and closed her eyes, focusing her thoughts on her boyfriend and trying to follow Deaton’s directions. Lydia’s eyes popped open a couple of minutes later and her legs starting walking without any direction from her head.

She walked steadily down the hallway to the end and then made a right down another hallway. Lydia kept moving not knowing how she knew where to go. But she did. Lydia made a left and paused when she spotted a room at the end of the hallway with a light on. Stiles was there, she could feel it.

Lydia took off down the hall her bare feet padding across the tile as she ran for the room a hint of relief filling her. Her hair flew behind her as she gripped the doorway and jerked to a halt in front of the open door. Confusion filled her gaze at the sight in front of her. There was a woman lying in the bed hooked up to several monitors and a little boy was sitting in a chair beside her, his hand clasping the larger one.

Lydia took a step forward and froze when she saw the woman’s face. Her heart jumped in her chest, not at all prepared for the scene in front of her. “Oh my god,” she whispered.

The little boy in the chair held onto his mom’s hand tightly, pressing his face against the hospital mattress. His shoulders were tense and after a moment he lifted his head up, sniffling. “I just want you to get better and come with me and Dad,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

Lydia felt moisture gather in her eyes as she stood there. She hadn’t been expecting this, but it made sense in a way, logically speaking. She glanced behind her and the hallway was still empty. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly hesitating for a moment before stepping into the hospital room.

Lydia could hear a steady beeping echoing in the quiet room. The smell of industrial cleaners was strong and the white walls made her stomach turn. Lydia hated hospitals. She took another step forward and paused a few feet behind the chair Stiles was sitting in...or a younger version of Stiles.

Lydia wet her lips, “Stiles?” She called softly, her heart beating erratically in her chest.

“He can’t hear you,” Stiles said tiredly from where he sat against the wall in the corner of the room, all color drained from his face. “It’s just a memory.” He looked up at her with sad eyes. “Lydia, you shouldn’t have followed me.”

Lydia whirled around and her heart clenched when she saw Stiles on the floor. “Are you daft? Of course I followed you,” she exclaimed as she closed the distance between them quickly. Lydia bent down kneeling in front of him. “Stiles...what are you doing here?” She asked trying her best not to cry at the agonized look on his face.

“It’s where the door led to,” he whispered. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. “It’s where it always leads to.” He laid his head back against the wall and turned his head, a flicker of pain crossing his features as the heart machine began to whine loudly. He shut his eyes as though trying to block out the sound.

The smaller version of Stiles gripped more tightly onto his mom’s hand. “Mommy? Mommy?! MOMMY!” he screamed.

Lydia couldn’t help turning to face the younger version of Stiles when he started to scream and the second her eyes locked on him she gasped for air and clutched at her heart. “Oh god,” a rush of grief struck her knocking her forward until one of her hands was pressed against the cold tile floor. Anger rushed through her body next; she could feel her muscles clench as she tried to figure out what the hell was happening.

But it was too much at once, a sob fell from her throat and she forced her eyes shut breaking whatever connection had been made. Lydia sucked in a sharp breath her body shaky as she pushed herself back into a kneeling position and turned to her Stiles. “Stiles, we have to go,” she pleaded in a whispered voice.

Nurses began to flood the room, completely unaware of Lydia or Stiles’ presence. One of them began calling out orders. “And get this kid out of here!” she shouted.

“No! No, you can’t make me go! That’s my MOM!” little Stiles cried, struggling against one of the nurses as they tried to pull him away from the bed.

Stiles turned his head back to look at Lydia. “It’s dark out there,” he whispered. “I can’t see anything when I try to leave the room.”

Lydia tried to focus. She was smart, she could deal with this, it was simple psychology. She shoved the fading emotions into the back of her head and focused on Stiles. He was pale with dark bags beneath his eyes. His eyes, beautiful and always so full of love were void and it pained Lydia to see him this way.

“It’s okay, I know the way out. It’s not dark for me.” She whispered as she reached out and touched him. It was the wrong thing to do. The second she did, nausea overwhelmed her. Lydia felt nothing. It was like an immense shroud of darkness and hopelessness filled her. Was this what Stiles felt, what was going on inside of him? “Stiles please,” Lydia did her best to coax his focus onto her. “We came here together, I can help. It’s why I’m here.”

“I can’t, Lyds,” he whispered, his voice strained. “I have to stay. I can’t leave her alone again.” A tear slid down his cheek. “I can’t.” He shuddered as he watched his younger self being dragged out of the room, screaming and crying. A moment later the scene began again. Younger Stiles was sitting in the chair by his mother’s bedside, clutching her hand.

“This is it,” he murmured. “It’s all there is now. All that’s left.” He shut his eyes.

A look of horror crossed Lydia’s face when the room grew quiet again and his memory replayed. “How long have you been reliving this moment Stiles?” There was a hint of fear in her voice, but she tried to push it out. There was no place for fear here, Lydia needed to be strong.

Realization crossed her face, “A part of you has always been here hasn’t it...since the ritual you’ve been stuck in this...this endless loop.” Lydia reached out and gripped Stiles’ cheeks forcing him to look at her. “This isn’t all there is. You said yourself they can’t hear us or see us...Stiles, this wasn’t your fault, you were a kid and you’ve still got a family that needs you,” she whispered moisture in her eyes. “Please come with me, let me take you home.” Lydia needed him to come home, the Sheriff needed him too and Scott...they all did.

He scrubbed his hands over his face miserably, the heart monitor beginning to whine once more. “I can’t get it out of my head. I just want to get it out of my head, Lydia.” He felt sick, remembering every single moment of the horrible day so long ago.

Another tear rolled down his face when she said it wasn’t his fault. “But it was. It was my fault,” he whispered. “He knows it, too. It’s why he doesn’t trust me. It’s why -- “ His voice broke and he shook his head. “I can’t go back. All I’ve done is cause him problems. I got him in trouble at work. Scott’s dad is gonna try and get him fired and maybe if I hadn’t gotten involved, maybe things wouldn’t have...Scott wouldn’t have even been bitten in the first place and it just all comes back to this.” He was rambling, not making sense even if it made sense to him. “This is where I’m supposed to be. It should have been me and not her.”

“How can you say that?” She asked as her chest tightened. “Stiles, your Father loves you. He loves you more than anything. I’ve spent the last week with the two of you remember?” She asked not giving him a chance to answer as she kept her hands on his face.

“When I see the two of you together I see a family. I see a man who would do anything to protect his son and son who would do anything to protect his Father. You give your Dad a reason to get up in the morning Stiles; he’d be inconsolable if anything ever happened to you.”

Lydia’s voice broke, “I would be inconsolable. I don’t know what I’d do without you and I know that’s selfish, but you don’t belong here, you belong with me and with your Dad and Scott. We need you. You don’t realize that you hold us all together. Stiles please look at me, open your eyes, look at me.” She demanded in a soft voice.

“He’d be better off without me. I’m just this hyperactive little bastard who’s ruining his life,” he murmured. He looked over at his younger self, who was once more sitting at his mom’s bedside. When her voice broke, though, he shuddered, turning to look at her and opening his eyes, full of hot tears.

“You need to get out of here while you can. Before I ruin you, too. I love you too much to let that happen. Go and be happy. Forget about me. Look at me. I’m a wreck, okay? I’m literally trapped in my own memory. That isn’t normal,” he whispered. “You deserve so much more than this. You all do. But you have to look after Scott. And you have to look after my dad. Please, Lydia.”

Lydia shook her head, “No, no I’m not leaving you. Do you hear me Stiles? If I have to lift you up myself and drag you out of here I will. But I refuse to leave without you. And for you to even think I would...well I guess you still have a lot to learn about me.” She told him matter-of-factly ignoring the warm flow of tears spilling down her cheeks.

Stiles took a deep breath and caught her arms gently, standing up and pulling her to her feet, as well. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against her mouth before guiding her to the door. “You have to go. You didn’t do this. I did.” He gently eased her out the door. “Just go back.”

“No,” Panic filled Lydia’s eyes, “No Stiles no,” But she felt something tugging at her. She gripped the doorknob tightly her eyes never leaving Stiles. “Don’t do this, Stiles please, please come with me.” She felt a breeze pick up in the hallway, which was impossible. They were inside. No, they were in his head and he was pushing her out. “Stiles, no, NO!”

Lydia’s body jerked on the metal examination table and she jerked awake screaming, “NO!” her voice carried through into a loud scream that nearly shattered the glass in the small back room of the veterinary office. She moved in blind panic hand fumbling as her eyes blinked open. She could see Scott on his knees his hands over his ears, Isaac and Derek as well, but she wasn’t really taking it in.

Lydia’s gaze landed on Stiles and she started freaking out, “Put me back, put me pack,” her panicked cries grew louder as she shifted off the table falling to the ground as sobs wracked her body. “Stiles,” his name left her throat in an anguished cry and she searched frantically for the needle Deaton had used on her. She needed to go back.

As soon as his ears stopped ringing, Scott was on his feet again. “Lydia! Lydia, what’s happening?” he asked, frightened.

Deaton quickly crossed the mountain ash barrier, leaning down to help Lydia to her feet once more. “I need you to tell us what you saw,” he said gently, his voice calm and soothing as always. Unless he knew what was going on, he couldn’t in good conscience put her back under. Truthfully he wasn’t sure how Stiles had managed to push her out of his mind and wake her up in the first place. “Can you do that, Lydia?”

Lydia’s body shook as her hands went to her head the emotions stirring in her head with her own. She shook her head, “He pushed me out, he...I have to go back I can’t leave him there,” her eyes were wide and the look in them was wild. “He’s torturing himself, he can’t let it go, it’s not his fault, he doesn’t think...Oh god I can’t...I can’t breathe what’s happening?” Lydia started to hyperventilate her hand reaching out to clutch the empty metal table.

Derek pursed his lips, “Deaton,” he said his tone warning as Isaac took a step forward.

“What the hell is going on, why is she freaking out like this and what was that scream?” He asked as he stepped closer to Allison, resting a hand on the small of her back for support.

Deaton exhaled, looking back at Derek and then at Scott. “I’m afraid it’s going to take more than Lydia to pull him back, even with as strong as their connection is. He’s fighting her,” he explained quietly. “Allison, please break the circle. I need someone who has a connection to Lydia to help her through the panic attack, and I need someone else to go and find Stiles’ father.”

Allison dropped to her knees, sweeping the mountain ash back and out of the way without any hesitation before rushing over to her best friend’s side. “Isaac? Can you find him?” Her voice was afraid. She put a comforting hand on Lydia’s face. “Lydia. Lydia, honey look at me.”

Isaac didn’t have to be asked twice, he was out of the building before Allison could say another word. Derek watched him go and then glanced back at Lydia and Allison, his expression pensive.

Lydia tried to suck in another breath, but her chest felt like it was too tight. Warmth gripped her and she tried to focus on the voice talking to her, was that Allison? The warmth of a hand on her cheek made her glance up and meet Allison’s gaze. “I can’t...Stiles,” the words that left her mouth were hoarse and she did her best to focus, but it was hard when she felt like she couldn't breathe.

“He’s going to be fine,” Allison said firmly, sounding a hundred times more confident than she actually felt at the moment, but that didn’t matter. Right now she had to stay calm because her best friend needed that from her. “Take a deep breath. And let it out slowly. We have to be calm so we can help Stiles, okay?”

Deaton looked back at Derek even as he rose to his feet to check on Stiles’ vitals, a grim expression on his face. He shook his head ever-so-slightly.

Scott caught the motion and rushed into the broken circle. He was beside Stiles in seconds and he focused his senses on his best friend. Pain etched into his face, “We need to fix this,” he said, “Now, we don’t have time to wait.” He stressed feeling helpless.

Lydia let out a sharp noise and grabbed her stomach. She could feel a scream building in her throat, but she fought it. “No,” her voice was breaking again as the urge to scream grew louder. “You can’t have him,” she shouted, “Scott, we need to go back in now, come with me he’ll listen to you, he will I know he will.”

Scott’s face paled at Lydia’s words and he glanced at Deaton. “Can you send us in now? What do I need to do?” He asked noticing that the panic attack must have passed when the Banshee part of Lydia attempted to scream.

Deaton looked at Lydia with worried eyes, and then shifted his gaze to Scott. He’d truly believed that Lydia alone would have been enough to pull Stiles out of the darkness in his mind and it troubled him that it hadn’t worked. He knew Scott well enough to know that if he didn’t agree, Scott would load up a syringe of sedative medication and inject himself. “Lie down. Derek, can you please get the one of the other tables from the storage room?” He requested, moving across the room to get two new syringes.

Allison looked from Lydia to Scott, frightened and trying really hard not to show it. “What about me? What can I do? How can I help?” She didn’t like being helpless when one of her friends was basically dying right in front of her and two other people she loved were going in to try and save him.

“Hold onto Scott. Kira, you too.” Deaton motioned to the table.

Kira moved into the circle right as Derek moved out the other table putting it on the other side of Stiles.

Scott walked around and got up on the table his gaze falling on Kira.

She swallowed hard and moved over to him gripping one of his arms tightly, “This is going to work,” she reassured him hoping she was right. Kira barely knew Stiles, but she could already see how much he meant to the group of people in front of her.

Scott gave her a worried smile as he waited for Allison to latch onto his other arm.

Derek hesitated before moving into the circle and holding a hand out to Lydia.

She glanced up her tear stained face looking tired and distraught. Lydia glanced at Derek’s hand and contemplated ignoring it, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand on her own. So, Lydia reached up and took his hand letting him tug her up carefully. Surprise crossed her face when Derek’s touch silenced the whirlwind of emotions flowing through her. She tightened her grip on him. She could finally breathe again.

Deaton smiled very faintly, nodding as he witnessed the moment. “Derek will be acting as your anchor and Kira and Allison act as Scott’s while you and Scott try to draw Stiles out. They won’t actually see what you’re seeing, but they’ll feel your feelings while you’re inside of Stiles’ mind.” When no one protested, he moved to Scott’s side first, inserting the needle and injecting him with the sedative. A moment later he did the same to Lydia.

Scott’s eyes glowed as his body tried to fight the sedative. He jerked his arms making Allison and Kira tighten their grips, a sneer left his mouth and then the struggle was ripped from him as his body wobbled and then started to fall. Kira and Allison gently laid him back before keeping on hand each of him.

Lydia watched Scott’s eye close and she went to take a step toward the table, but stumbled as her body wavered.

Derek caught her and lifted her to the table. He glanced down on her with a frown not sure if this was the right thing to do, if Deaton letting him be her anchor was smart.

Lydia’s eyes fluttered, “I trust you,” she whispered before her head lolled to the side leaving Derek’s chest tight. It had been a long time since anyone had said that to him and he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it or if he deserved it.

“You can do this, Derek,” Deaton said quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Just concentrate. Think about Elizabeth.”

Derek swallowed hard, that was easier said than done. But he nodded and took a step toward the table, resting his large hands on Lydia’s shoulders. He pushed everything out of his mind and solely focused on Elizabeth and Lydia. Deaton was right, he could do this.

_________

 

Scott woke up on the floor of Stiles’ bedroom, eyebrows furrowing as he sat up, puzzled. Stiles’ nightmare was...being in his room? It didn’t make any sense. Then he heard movement from the bed and turned to see Lydia sitting up with a gasp. He quickly got to his feet. If anyone was going to be able to figure out what they were supposed to do from here, it was the red-head. Strawberry blonde, he practically heard Stiles say in his own mind.

“Lydia? Lydia, what now? Where is he?” To say that Scott was freaked out would be a severe understatement, but he was trying to stay calm. “What do we do?”

Lydia spotted Scott and shoved the blankets off of her when she realized she was back in Stiles head. She stood and motioned for Scott to follow her. “Come on, we need to go through the closet,” she said practically running over to it her bare feet hitting the ground loudly. “It’s dark and we’re going to fall, but it will be fine.” She said grabbing Scott’s hand and tugging him into the closet.

He was confused by her words, but he let her lead him into Stiles’ closet, wondering what the hell was going on in his best friend’s mind. Everything seemed normal so far. And then, as Lydia predicted, they fell a short distance and when he looked up, his eyebrows furrowed. This was a place he was extremely familiar with because it was where his mother worked. He’d played hide and seek there with Stiles when they were little kids, before his mother died, and then he’d never wanted to come back to the hospital again.

And that’s when it clicked. His mother. It all went back to his mother.

“Oh, god,” he whispered inaudibly, following Lydia down the corridors and around corners until she stopped in front of a room whose door was slightly ajar. Somehow he had a terrible feeling he knew what was happening inside the room.

Lydia looked at the door and let out a breath. “He replays it. Over and over again...the same thing until he’s in tears. He’s torturing himself because he thinks it’s his fault.” She whispered. “He’s not doing well...when you see him it’s going to be a shock, but we need to convince him to leave the room with us okay? No matter what.” Lydia said her voice soft.

Scott nodded wordlessly, trying to prepare himself for whatever shape he was about to find his best friend in, but when he stepped inside and spotted his best friend’s eight year old form, his eyes widened. “Stiles?” he whispered.

A soft sound came from the corner of the room and seventeen year old Stiles looked up at the pair wordlessly for a long moment. They shouldn’t be here, he thought, exhausted. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. “Hey Scottie.”

Scott’s chest tightened when he spotted Stiles. He stepped forward shifting closer to him as he spoke “Hey,” he said his voice strained. “Stiles, what are you doing here?” he asked quietly, but already knowing. It was clear what was happening. Lydia had been right. Stiles was living this moment over and over again. “We’ve got to go,” he said in hushed tones. “Will you come with me?” He asked letting his gaze slide over to Lydia briefly who stood a few feet behind him.

Stiles sighed softly. Even if he had the energy to get up, which he definitely didn’t, he didn’t think he had it in him to leave his mom again. He swallowed hard, looking over to where she lay dying in front of him. “I left her once. I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t, Scottie.” He rarely ever used that nickname for Scott anymore, and he was the only one that Scott even let get by with it.

Scott wasn’t sure what to say to that. How did you tell your best friend he had to leave his sick and dying Mother behind? He glanced at Lydia who had kneeled down beside him. “He’s not listening,” he whispered to her.

Lydia met Scott’s gaze, “Try harder.” She reached out and rested a hand on Stiles’ cheek. “When I get you out of here, you are going to be so sorry you pushed me out Stiles Stilinski. I’ll say it again this time, so you can hear it better, I’m not leaving you. never. If you stay here, then so do I.”

Scott studied Lydia. He’d never seen her like this before, so emotionally raw. Her expression was set in somber determination and he was pretty sure she meant every word she spoke. And just like that he saw what Stiles had seen in Lydia all these years, her loyalty and fierce nature. She loved his best friend, and that was enough for Scott.

Stiles looked from Scott to Lydia and back again. “I love you guys,” he said quietly. “I really do. But…” His expression was pained as he looked back over at his mom, laying his head back against the wall as he watched the nurses try to revive her once more. “I have to face the consequences now. It’s time. And I’m tired.”

Scott gripped Stiles’ arm tighter, “I don’t know why you think this is your fault, but Stiles it’s not. We can fix this it isn’t too late. You were there for your Mom. You were by her side and she knows that.” Scott wasn’t sure how to convince him of that. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Lydia fall to her knees with a cry.

His chest tightened, “What’s happening?” He asked a hint of panic creeping into his voice.

Lydia gasped as she once again felt Stiles emotions inside of her. “Scott keep talking to him,” A sob was pulled from her throat the anxiety and grief weighing down on her. Lydia felt like it was crushing her. Pain blossomed in her chest and she cried out.

Scott grabbed Stiles, “You’ve got to snap out of this man, look...look at Lydia she needs you. I need you. Please, Stiles your Mom she’s safe now, she’s okay you don’t need to feel guilty anymore. You don’t need to feel this kind of pain. You need to let it go.” He stated.

The guilt was overwhelming as Scott shook him lightly. “You have to get her out of here,” he said, shaking his head. “Neither of you belongs here, okay? You didn’t do this! I did this! Scott, just get Lydia and get out of here, man. I can’t let it go. I don’t know how. How do you let it go when it’s your fault?” Before he could say anything more, a figure behind Scott and Lydia appeared in the doorway and Stiles let out a strangled sound as he looked at his dad.

“Dad?” he whispered, confused.

The Sheriff caught the tail end of his son’s words and he was pretty sure that nothing in the world had ever pained him more. He’d been confused when Isaac came to get him and even more confused when he walked into Deaton’s office. Hell he’d thought they were insane, but he could see now they clearly weren’t.

He hadn’t been paying attention to what was happening. He didn’t believe his own son...but this, this was worse than anything he could have imagined. The Sheriff stepped forward pausing when he saw Lydia on the floor clutching her chest.

He hesitated and Scott spoke, “I’ve got her.” He said moving over to Lydia as he motioned to Stiles.

The Sheriff nodded, swallowed hard and walked over to his son. He bent down slowly glancing between Stiles and the image of his younger self with his Mother. His chest tightened, but he pushed passed it. He needed to help his son.

“Stiles, this is not your fault. It never was,” his voice was thick with grief as he rested a hand on his son’s arm. The Sheriff blew out a breath. “It was mine. I should have been with you. I should have taken better care of your Mother. She was my wife; I should have known when she got sick that it wasn’t normal. I should have pushed her to figure out what was wrong sooner.” A lump formed in his throat and he looked down. “If this is anyone’s fault it’s mine. I wasn’t there for either of you. It’s why I’ve kept such a distance between us all these years son.”

The Sheriff gripped the back of Stiles’ head so he was looking at him. “I failed you...I didn’t think I deserved your love after that. You deserve more than what you ended up with...your Mother was always so much better with you. It should have been me and not her...I’ll never forgive myself for that, but it’s not you. It was never you,” he whispered.

Stiles shook his head, eyes wet with tears as he stared at his dad while he spoke. He didn’t understand. Had he not made the connection? Stiles had long ago, but he’d never dared utter what he’d read out loud. Not to anyone. “No, Dad,” he whispered. “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. If I hadn’t gone to that stupid birthday party the week before, none of this would have...Mom was doing better, but then I got sick and then she got sick and she never got better. She got sick because of me! Because I had to go to that stupid party.” A sob escaped him.

“Dad, if I hadn’t gotten around Mike Miller, I wouldn’t have gotten sick and then Mom wouldn’t have gotten sicker and she would still be here, with us. I’m so sorry.” His voice broke, body shaking.

“I never said anything because I was so --- I didn’t want you to hate me. I’m so sorry.” He’d read all about how a person who was sick shouldn’t get around someone who was fighting a terminal illness, and he had anyway, when his mom had rushed into his room because he was crying, running a high fever that morning, a week before. If he hadn’t been crying, maybe she wouldn’t have gotten around him, wouldn’t have gotten pneumonia. In the end, Stiles knew that was what had actually killed her. Her already compromised immune system hadn’t been able to withstand the extra burden that he’d put upon her, however unintentional it had been. “I shouldn’t have gone to that party.”

The Sheriff closed his eyes and shook his head. He should have realized his son had been holding onto this guilt for so long and he didn’t. He would never make that mistake again. He could see Scott out of the corner of his eye bringing Lydia near them; the Sheriff gripped his son’s face hard. “Look at me,” he said his voice shook.

“Your Mom was already sick,” he whispered, “The doctor’s appointment we went to a few days before the party...he told us, he said,” the Sheriff's throat closed up and he took a breath before continuing. “He told us it wouldn't be much longer we just didn’t,” his voice broke, “We didn’t know how to tell you. You were so young and your Mother wanted things to be normal for you so I went to work and she did what she always did. She put me and you first and I let her.” He looked down.

“I knew what the doctor said and I still left, I still went out and left her alone. Stiles, your Mother loved you more than anything. She would never blame you, ever and it would kill her to see you blaming yourself.”

Scott’s eyes were moist and he swallowed hard before speaking. “Your Dad’s right. She wouldn’t want this for you, Stiles.”

Lydia stood beside Scott, the onslaught of emotions that had slamming into her were being blocked out. She could feel Derek there with her and she was thankful. “Stiles, Scott would be dead if it wasn’t for you,” she said quietly. “So would I...and so would Derek. You’ve helped every single one of us and we love you so much,” Lydia could feel the tears building in her eyes again. “Please, I can’t lose anyone else.”

Stiles wiped his eyes with the back of one hand, drawing in a shaky breath before launching himself into his dad’s arms, hugging him tightly and squeezing his eyes shut. “I just miss her so much,” he whispered. “But I don’t blame you, Dad. I never have.” He sniffed loudly, opening his eyes and looking up at Scott and Lydia. His eyebrows furrowed a little as he saw other familiar faces toward the back of the room. Allison, Isaac, Kira, Derek...Mrs. McCall? What was going on? How was all of this happening?

He looked over to his mom’s bed where she’d been laying, except now she was gone, an empty bed the only thing left of all the equipment in the room. He clutched onto his dad a little tighter.

And then Stiles woke up.

Isaac was the first to notice Stiles’ eyes flutter and he spoke loudly, “He’s waking up,” he said drawing everyone’s attention to their friend’s body.

The Sheriff’s eyes flew open, his body jerking slightly. He blinked and spotted Melissa standing beside him. He gripped her arm gently and squeezed sending her a grateful look before sitting up quickly and moving towards Stiles.

Scott was the next one to wake up and when his eyes focused, the light bright around him, Kira’s face was the first thing that came into view. He smiled, “Stiles?” He asked his voice hoarse.

Stiles felt disoriented and shaky, like he’d hit his head or something and he sat up slowly, looking around and trying to figure out what had just happened. It felt like he’d been asleep for a really long time and hadn’t been able to wake up. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking at Scott first, because Scott said his name. “Hey,” he said uncertainly. Before he had time to figure out what was going on, he found himself wrapped tightly in his dad’s arms. He hugged him back, swallowing hard.

“What were you thinking? Bringing my dad into this?” he asked Deaton, glaring at him. “That was incredibly dangerous!”

“He was thinking that your dad had the right to know what the hell was going on,” the Sheriff answered not giving Deaton a chance to speak. He shifted back enough to see Stiles, his hand gripping his shoulders. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. Do you hear me?” His voice was gruff and hard, but there was fear in his eyes.

“From now on complete honesty, which is what I thought we had,” he said pointedly.

Scott sat up and slid off the table, “Guys let’s just give Stiles some breathing room.” He said before turning to the Sheriff and Stiles. “We needed his help to get you out. Lydia wasn’t enough...you pushed her out and she,” he paused, “We had to go back in with her.” He explained to his friend not wanting him to be upset. Scott just wanted to keep everyone calm.

Isaac cleared his throat, “Scott’s mom was your Dad’s anchor, for a little while we thought you were all going to get stuck in there, but we’re glad you didn’t.” He said sincerely as he caught sight of Derek lifting Lydia off the table out of the corner of his eye.

Stiles swallowed hard at his dad’s words, gaze dropping. “I just wanted to protect you. I didn’t want to lose you, Dad.” His voice was pained and then he heard Scott’s words, his chest tight. He nodded in understanding. He vaguely remembered pushing Lydia out of his head in an effort to protect her. He was pretty sure he’d been on the verge of actual death again, and he’d been afraid of taking her with him.

He turned his focus to Isaac when the werewolf spoke and he reached up, rubbing the back of his neck and then turning to where Melissa McCall stood in silent observation. “Thanks,” he said softly, shifting his gaze to Lydia and Derek. His chest tightened again as he realized his subconscious may have done serious damage to his relationship with her, still so fragile and new. He felt different. So many different emotions were flickering through him: relief, anxiety, warmth, guilt, and others he couldn’t even recognize.

“Scott’s right. Why don’t we give Stiles and his dad a few minutes? They probably need some time to talk,” Melissa announced, reaching out and resting a hand on Isaac’s shoulder, offering him a gentle smile. God, these teenagers were just kids, but they’d been through so much in such a short amount of time.

She herded everyone toward the door, except for Lydia and Scott, arching her eyebrows at her son and heading out of the room.

Scott waited until everyone was out of the room before stepping forward and into the space between the Sheriff and Stiles and pulling his friend into a hug. “I told you we wouldn’t leave you in there.” He said quietly, “You are my brother Stiles, no matter what. I will always be here to pull you back.”

Lydia watched them as she walked over on shaky legs pausing beside the Sheriff. She was feeling better by the minute, but she was exhausted and the control she had on her emotions was shaky. Something felt different, but she couldn’t quite place it.

Stiles exhaled as Scott hugged him next. He hugged his best friend, nodding. “I know you will,” he murmured. “Me too.” He offered Scott a small smile when he pulled back, shifting his gaze to Lydia and swallowing hard. He held his hand out to her hesitantly.

Lydia moved forward without hesitation taking it and then wrapping her arms around him. She pressed her body against his, her hand brushing the back of his neck as she rested her head between his shoulder and neck. “You’re in so much trouble,” she whispered, taking a deep breath and breathing in his scent.

Stiles closed his eyes as he hugged her, pressing a kiss to her cheek before she pulled away. He leaned into her touch, a faint smile tugging at his mouth as he met her eyes.

Lydia was silent for a minute, “You scared me,” she admitted, “Don’t ever push me away again, even if it’s for my own good,” she told him knowingly as she pulled back enough to see his face. Lydia cupped Stiles’ cheek brushing her thumb against the skin there. ‘I love you’ she mouthed the words to him as she held him closer needing to feel that he was back and okay.

Stiles nodded at her unspoken words before she hugged him again. He rubbed her back, pressing his mouth against her ear. “I love you, too,” he whispered, knowing Scott would definitely hear him even if his dad didn’t. But it didn’t matter. Scott already knew anyway.

After a long moment, he reluctantly pulled away, glancing at his dad. “Well, I don’t know about anyone else but I’m starving.”

The Sheriff shook his head in good humor and Scott chuckled. “I could eat.” He said while putting a hand on Stiles’ back.

The Sheriff grunted and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ll order some pizza back at the house.” He said with a sigh glad his son seemed okay for the moment.

“For everyone?” Scott asked as he turned and started walking backwards toward the door where everyone else was waiting, grin on his face.

Lydia smiled at their antics as she stood beside Stiles quietly.

Stiles smirked at Scott’s question. “I’ll help pay for it,” he assured his dad. He looked at Lydia for a moment. “Lyds, I need a couple minutes with my dad. Is that cool?” He squeezed her hand.

Lydia glanced up at Stiles distracted and nodded, “Sure,” she cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss there, “I’ll be out front.” She told him before glancing at the Sheriff and sending him a tired half-smile.

He reached out and squeezed her arm gently as she walked by before turning his attention to his son. He was quiet for a minute, studying Stiles’ face. “Are you okay?”

Stiles watched her go, then shifted his focus back to his dad. “Yeah. I’m okay. Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

The Sheriff chuckled, “You wouldn’t think I would be,” he said shaking his head again in disbelief. He let his hands slip into his pockets as he looked over at his son again. “I’ve been holding onto all of that for a long time, I think it did a world of good to get it out...for both of us.” he admitted.

“I never meant to push you away. I’m sorry I’ve been so distant, but that’s going to change now. I want you to be able to talk to me. From this point on, whatever you’re feeling, you come to me. You hear me?” He asked quietly.

Stiles studied his dad for long moment, listening intently. “You didn’t really...I know I haven’t really been easy to deal with. I mean, between the ADD stuff and the whole supernatural thing, I’m just...I know it hasn’t been easy for you to deal with me. I was just scared, Dad. I don’t want to lose you, too. I’m gonna try and be a better son.”

He just hoped that he could figure out how to actually do that, especially when all of his instincts tended to tell him to push his dad away when things weren’t going well supernatural-wise. He was so terrified that his dad would end up getting hurt because of all of it. But maybe his dad was terrified of the same thing.

The Sheriff shook his head and stepped closer to Stiles resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good son,” he responded quietly. “You take care of me more than you should have to and I know I get frustrated a lot, but Stiles, I’m proud of you and the man you’re turning into.” His voice was strong and matter-of-fact. “I don’t want or need you to change; I just need you to see that the kid you are isn’t as bad as you think.”

Stiles felt a warmth bloom through his chest at his dad’s words and unable to come up with anything in response, he just reached out and hugged him once more, tighter than before. “I love you, Dad,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

The Sheriff hugged him back, tightening his grip on Stiles. “I love you too, son.”

After a long moment, Stiles pulled away, eyes brighter than they had been in a long time. “I think you said something about ordering pizza for everybody?” He grinned, sliding down off the table. “But you know that’s not really on your list of approved meal choices, so I’ll fix you a turkey burger when we get home.” He patted his dad’s shoulder.

The Sheriff huffed, “I deserve pizza after my first trek into the land of supernatural werewolves and goblins or whatever,” he motioned around, “all this is. One slice...no pepperoni just cheese. I can take it.” He patted his stomach as he wrapped an arm around Stiles and led him towards the doorway.

He cocked his head to the side, arching his eyebrows in consideration. “One piece, but no soda with it. Just water. And you have to eat a salad before, because you need your vegetables.” His voice was matter-of-fact as they walked out of the room, a grin tugging at his mouth. Maybe things were going to get back to normal now. Better yet, maybe things were going to be okay.


	14. Chapter 14

Scott chucked the rolled up napkin at Stiles, a grin on his face. “I never said that,” he pointed out. “All I did was say she looked angelic in the light…” Scott pursed his lips and flushed. “Yeah okay fine.” He grumbled.

Isaac smirked, “I like Kira, I think she’s sweet. And she’s always giggling, which you know is also funny.” He scratched the back of his head, his grin faltering at the looks he got.

Derek stayed silent, but the amusement was clear on his face as he watched the teenagers interact with each other. His gaze shifted to Allison and Lydia briefly before Scott’s voice drew his attention back to the guys.

“I think I’m finally full.” Scott said as he leaned back in his chair.

Stiles arched an eyebrow. “Give it five minutes,” he responded with a smirk. “You’re a growing werewolf.” He stuffed the rest of his pizza crust in his mouth.

Allison laughed softly, tucking some hair behind her ear. She looked at Scott for a long moment. “I like Kira. She seems really sweet.” She added drawing the conversation back to the other girl.

The room grew quiet for a long moment.

Scott straightened up and cleared his throat as he watched Allison for a minute realizing that this whole conversation was probably awkward and he should have taken that into account. “Thanks,” he said softly.

His gaze traveled over to Isaac who was sitting beside Allison and he gave the other man half a smile.

Stiles watched the interaction between his best friend, Allison, and Isaac closely. He had a feeling that was Allison’s way of saying she approved of Kira and he had her blessing. But he could also tell that Scott was a little uncertain about all of it. 

Isaac returned it and reached for another slice of pizza. “It was nice of your Mom to chip in with the pizza,” he said to Scott before glancing at Derek, “You too.”

Derek nodded. “Sure.” It was nice of them to include him so he hadn’t minded chipping in with the adults knowing how much they could all eat.

Lydia pushed her slice of pizza around on her plate. She wasn’t all that hungry, mostly she was just tired, but Stiles was finally feeling better and she didn’t want to ruin the celebration. She was glad he was okay. Lydia didn’t know what she would have done without him.

Stiles draped his arm around Scott’s shoulders. “Mrs. McCall’s awesome like that,” he said, glad for the change in topic. He looked at Derek. “So, you’re planning to stick around for awhile, right?”

Allison shifted her gaze from Scott and Stiles to Derek momentarily before taking a drink of her soda. Being in the same room with him in such a casual setting was...strange to say the least. She leaned against Isaac’s side unconsciously as she grew quiet.

Isaac’s hand immediately went to the small of Allison’s back, rubbing soothing circles into her skin. He knew what she was thinking and he genuinely felt bad that everything was still so fresh. But on the other hand he knew Derek was really trying. He would be there for Allison as much as she needed him, but he couldn’t hate Derek because he knew the other werewolf would have done the same thing to save him if he’d been in Scott’s situation.

Isaac glanced at Derek watching as the other man turned his gaze on Stiles.

Derek pursed his lips his gaze flickering over to Lydia briefly before going to Scott and finally landing on Stiles again. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I think it’s time for a change.” He admitted. Beacon Hills was his home and there was still a lot left to do there.

Stiles met his eyes for a moment, nodding. “Change is good,” he said mildly before looking at Lydia, who was being unusually quiet. He reached out and laced his fingers through hers, rubbing his thumb lightly over the back of her hand.

Allison smiled faintly at Isaac and set her empty plate to the side for the time being. Her gaze, too, slid to Lydia, a strange feeling brushing along her consciousness. “Lydia? You all right?”

Lydia glanced up at the sound of Allison’s voice. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she met her best friend's gaze. “Of course I’m alright,” she said straightening up, the feel of Stiles’ thumb against her skin calming her.

She kept getting the oddest feelings. One second she’d be feeling anxious, the next happy, loved, and then tense. It was like there were a bunch of competing emotions trying to override her own, but they were never there long. A few minutes at most and then they were gone. It was kind of like what happened in Stiles’ head, but not. It wasn’t even on the same scale of crazy, but still it was strange. Or maybe Lydia was just exhausted and imagining things after running in and out of Stiles’ head all day. That was possible too.

Stiles’ frown deepened a little as he studied Lydia, shifting a little closer to her. Something wasn’t quite right though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was, exactly. He eyed her plate, noticing she’d barely touched her pizza at all. That was troubling. He felt a wave of anxiety wash over him, but different from usual, and he held his breath for a moment.

“Stop,” Lydia requested softly, she glanced at Stiles startled by her own command. She squeezed his hand gently, “I just meant you don’t need to worry. I’m fine, I promise.” Lydia sent him a small smile. “I’m tired,” she admitted, “That’s all.”

Scott pursed his lips as he glanced at Allison briefly before turning his attention back to Stiles and Lydia. “Is it because of what happened earlier when you...got sick?” Scott wasn’t exactly sure what had happened they’d been too involved with making sure Stiles was okay.

Derek tilted his head to the side. “What happened?” He asked curiously.

Lydia didn’t like having everyone’s attention on her. “Guys, please relax everything is fine. I got a little bit of an emotional overload in Stiles’ head, but Derek helped me out with that,” she turned to the werewolf in question, “Thanks for that by the way.” Lydia leaned back in her seat. “But everything is fine now, we just put Stiles back together,” she said with a grin, “Let's stick with celebrating that for now okay?”

It was a strange feeling that he was having, and it definitely centered on Lydia. Something wasn’t quite right and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but it was troubling. He forced a smile on his face, looking around at all his friends. He leaned back in his seat, as well, glancing sideways at his best friend and wondering if he could sense whatever it was, too. He didn’t know, but Lydia was right. She didn’t want the attention and he wasn’t going to draw it back to her unnecessarily.

They all needed to relax for a few hours. Whatever his senses were sensing? It could wait for a few hours at least. They’d deal with trouble in the morning if it showed up.

Scott watched Stiles lean back and he smiled and nodded. “Celebrating is good with me.” He said as he reached for another piece of pizza. So much for being full. Stiles had been right.

Lydia watched as her friends started talking again, laughter filling the Stilinski kitchen. She shifted closer to Stiles and rested her head against his shoulder, a small smile pulling at her lips. The door in Stiles’ head was closed, their friends were okay and things all around seemed to be looking up. Something nagged at the back of her mind, whispering to her, but Lydia ignored it, pushed it aside and focused on her friends. Everything else would work itself out eventually.


End file.
